


Twisted

by Madriddler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abortion, Bottom Harry Potter, Character Death, Dark Harry, Evil Dumbledore, Hermione Granger Bashing, Homophobia, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mentor Voldemort, Top Draco Malfoy, Weasley Bashing, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 92,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madriddler/pseuds/Madriddler
Summary: The road ahead twists for Harry, but will he swerve? Escaping from the Dursleys, Harry finds himself badly hurt and in the care of Draco Malfoy. Draco takes care of Harry and helps him become more than he ever was. Barely the boy anyone believes he is, Harry puts his trust in Draco and a romance buds. Draco, in return, shows Harry to a whole new world of Magic, drawing his friend deeper and deeper to dark Magic. How will the Light side react to Harry's switch? Will Harry's friends join him with Draco, or will he be left behind?





	1. Harry's Flight

Twisted

Chapter I

Harry’s Flight

 “What if I tell you, I know exactly how Dumbledore died,” the cloaked wizard said. The wizard was tall and thin, his voice strong and clear. He was in a small, smoky pub, surrounded by anxious children. The pub was mostly empty, the windows opened to let in the evening breeze. “The downfall of the Tyrant of Hogwarts, the Slayer of Ministers, the one man who opposed our Liberator, Harry Malfoy.”

One of the anxious children gasped in awe, “Do you? Do you?” she asked, practically jumping in her seat. The man chuckled at her excitement. He reached for his drink and took a swig at it, revealing, for a time, black hair, before he quickly covered it up by his hood.

“I do,” the man said. “I should know, I’ve saw it all happen.”

“No way!” another kid said, crossing his arms. “There’s no way this old man saw Dumbledore died! Next thing you’ll tell me you saw the False Lord’s death too!”

“But I did,” the man said smirking at the little kid. “Well, not exactly, I mean I wasn’t there when Dumbledore and the False Lord fought, but I was there none the less.”

“Tell us! Tell us!” the first girl jumped.

The man looked down at her and smiled. “Calm down sweetie, I’m getting there, don’t you worry. Though, I have to admit, it’s a long story.”

“W-We can still hear it!” another boy said. “Daddy and Dad told me that I can be out till ten with Sam!”

“Tommy! Don’t let him know that!” The first girl whispered; as if that was the biggest secret they held.

The man laughed a jolly laugh and slapped his knee. “You two are way too funny. What’s your name boy?”

“Tommy! Tommy Finnigan. My Daddy and Dad are Seamus and Dean Finnigan!” the boy, Thomas, smiled.

“So they’ve got together… huh, good for them,” the man said to himself. He looked down at Tommy and said, “Well Tommy, it’s only six, and the sun’s starting to set. How about we start now, and see how far we can reach.”

“Okay!” Tommy smiled. The man looked at the small kids surrounding him and looked up at the barmaid. “Excuse me, miss? How about some drinks for us around here? This is going to be a long story.”

“Sure thing,” the barmaid nodded, taking out her wand and casually waving it. Bottles of butterbeer, and one glass of water made their way towards the group. The man caught the water and looked down into it as the kids took a sip of the butterbeer.

“This is a sad story, if you want to look at it one way,” the man said. “You see, this all started when Harry Malfoy was in Hogwarts, with me, only he wasn’t called Harry Malfoy at the time—“

“He was Harry Potter!” Tommy said excitedly, raising his hand.

The man chuckled. “Yup, that he was. Good job Tommy. How’d you know that?”

“Daddy and Dad told me they’re friends with him!” Tommy said.

“Nah-uh, they aren’t friends with Harry Malfoy!” the first kid said.

“What do you know Flint? Your Daddy hated Harry!” Tommy yelled.

“Kids, kids settle down, settle down,” the man chuckled. “Do you want to hear the story or what?”

“We do! We do!” the kids chorused.

The man smiled at them and took a sip of his water. “Good. Now, as I said, this all started when Harry Malfoy was in Hogwarts, with me, only he wasn’t called Harry Malfoy at the time, he was known as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Now, Draco always had an eye on Harry, ever since he refused his handshake in first year, now no more questions, yes I was there too when that happened. Now…”

 

Harry Potter was fifteen, and in pain. It was the summer of his sixth year, his godfather had just died three weeks ago, and now he was stuck with his relatives. He hated living with the Dursleys, his muggle relatives, not because of the enormous amount of chores they’ve forced him to do, and not because of the small cupboard they’ve forced him to live in for the first eleven years of his life, which now held his only connection to the magical world, his real world. No, what he hated most was his cousin, Dudley Dursley. This big, fat, beefy boy who somehow had muscles for days, most likely from his punching bag. Harry could deal with the yelling and lectures he got form his uncle and aunt, he could even deal with missing a meal for a day because his uncle decided to lock him in his room. But he could not deal with Dudley. His cousin was a monster, a sadistic human who only cared about Harry’s pain.

Every day the damn muggle used Harry as a punching bag, beating Harry’s body to the brink of death, only to stop short for the day. It only got worse when he founded out Harry was gay. It was stupid, really, and Harry hated himself for the entire summer of fifth year because of it. He couldn’t stop thinking of Cedric Diggory, the boy he failed. Harry had such a crush on Cedric, and he planned on telling him about it after the Third Task. But unfortunately… Voldemort got to him first. Harry was sent home with a broken heart, but he couldn’t get his mind off of Cedric.

His dreams were filled with the boy, smiling at Harry, kissing Harry, making love with Harry. It reached a point where he couldn’t take it anymore, and after his Aunt and Uncle left for the day, leaving Harry alone to do his chores, Harry ran straight for his room, took off his clothes, and fell into his erotic fantasies with Cedric. Harry touched himself all over, moaning Cedric’s name, envisioning the boy naked over him, kissing him, biting him, thrusting into him. Harry started to stroke himself, and he reached a point where he started screaming Cedric’s name, too lost in his fantasy to notice what was happening around him.

Dudley seemed to forgotten something and went back home to get it. He heard Harry’s moaned and came up to check, smirking as he thought of what he would do to Potter now that he’s not doing his chores. With surprising silence and stealth for a boy of his size, Dudley sneaked into Harry’s small room to see the boy naked, writhing and screaming Cedric’s name. The muggle thought it was the funniest thing imaginable, and smirked when he noticed how woman-like his cousin’s body seemed to be. When Harry came, giving out a loud moan, Dudley finally lost it and started laughing.

“You look like a bitch Harry!” He laughed, smirking at him. “And you sound like a dog too.”

“D-Dudley!” Harry stuttered, trying to reach for his clothes. Dudley quickly snatched them and threw Harry’s clothes out of the window.

“I don’t think so, fag,” Dudley said. “Who would have known that my cousin was a faggot… this could be really fun.”

“You wouldn’t tell Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said worryingly. Fear growing inside him.

“Not unless you do exactly as I say,” Dudley smirked. He leaned back and said, “Be a good dog, Faggot Potter, and do the rest of your chores. Before my dad and mum come back.”

“But my clothes—“

“Dogs don’t need clothes!” Dudley screamed. “Now move!”

And that was how Harry’s humiliation gained a new level. For the entire summer until he was rescued, that awful muggle treated Harry like his dog. He was even crueler, his punches hurt even more, and Harry couldn’t do anything to stop him. His wand, spell books, and equipment were all locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and even if he could access his wand, he still wasn’t allowed to do magic out of Hogwarts. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, tortured by an agony that his “savors” overlooked. They thought he and his cousin was just rough-housing, so The Order of the Phoenix simply stitched him back up, and sent him off to do more chores. But Harry didn’t care. He finally felt he was home with his godfather Sirius Black, and his best friends Ron and Hermione. Naturally he did not tell anyone about Dudley’s “games.” It was too embarrassing for him, too humiliating, before forced to do so many awful things for the boy. Harry did his best to push it to the back of his mind, and focus only on the now.

But this summer, it was different. Harry had never felt so low. Losing the first boy he had a crush on was one thing, but losing his Godfather, his only real connection to a family, that devastated Harry. For the first couple of weeks back with the Dursleys Harry didn’t eat, didn’t drink, didn’t talk. He just went about his chores as normal and headed straight to bed.

Did the Dursleys care? No. They did not. Uncle Vernon thought this was an improvement for the freak. “I barely hear a peep out of the boy anymore Petunia,” he said to his wife one day.

“I know,” Aunt Petunia nodded, looking at Harry who was silently cooking their dinner. “I don’t know or care what happened to the boy, but this improvement is rather sudden. It’s almost like Christmas Day.”

“Yes, and he seems to be getting along with Dudley and his friends,” Uncle Vernon chuckled. “That’s what the boy needs. Firm discipline! The ones you can only get from people around your age.”

Aunt Petunia nodded, “It is so nice of Dudders to do that, now isn’t it Harry?” She turned towards Harry.

Harry stayed quiet, holding in the pain. Last night Dudley showed him his definition of “firm discipline.” It ended with several large welts on Harry’s rear, and bruises and cuts all over Harry’s back. Not wanting a lecture, Harry just nodded and continued cooking.

“See that? Not even a word of sass from the boy,” Aunt Petunia said. “Two years ago, he would have been trying to curse us into next week!” She laughed, Uncle Vernon joining her. The front door opened up, and Harry heard Dudley’s voice saying, “Mum I’m home!”

“In the kitchen,” Aunt Petunia said. Soon Dudley appeared in the doorway, it amazed Harry that the doorway was wide enough for the boy as he walked through. Dudley looked at Harry and said in a fake kind voice, “Harry, why not after you finishing cooking, you go up to my room?”

A shiver went up Harry’s spine. He wondered how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don’t know that Dudley is faking his kindness, he could easily hear the sliminess, the perverted rage inside his cousin’s voice. He opened his mouth, trying to refuse, but just nodded.

Later that night, Dudley had Harry in his closet all night long, “where fags belong.” Dudley’s dirty laundry covered the closet floor, and tied up and hanged like a piece of meat, Harry was forced to smell that rank, awful smell as his cousin gave him the belt before sleeping.

Harry needed to escape, wanting to run away, if only he could get his wand, his luggage. Then he could run away and… go where? There was no way he wanted to go to Grimmauld Place, there are too many memories of Sirius, and the Burrow was too far away, being in Devonshire, which is far too long a walk. The Dursleys… Dudley would catch up to him before he even makes it halfway there.

But still he needed to reach out Dumbledore, to anybody! If only Hedwig was still here. Harry sent his beloved owl to the Weasleys at the beginning of summer. Better than being locked up in a cage here. As he hung there, his senses assaulted by the rank, disgusting smell of his cousin, Harry, for the first time, allowed his tears to freely fall. Sometime during the night, maybe from the rank smell, or physical exhaustion, Harry fell into an unconscious sleep, the tears staining his cheeks. He awoke to light assaulting his face as the closet door opened.

“Just you and me today Harry,” Dudley’s voice chuckled as Harry’s vision blurred as he had to adjust for the light. If there was one thing he was grateful of, Dudley never hit his face, or broke his glasses. “Dogs needs to see,” was his cousin’s explanation.

But an entire day with Dudley? No! He couldn’t handle it! His body still remembers last time they were alone, last time Dudley showed his dog who’s boss. Harry thought he couldn’t survive another day like that. He knew even with his muscles from Boxing, Dudley was still slow. If he could get his stuff… he might be able to escape. He just needed the opportunity.

During the entire day, Dudley watched television as Harry did his chores. He was lucky that day; Dudley told him that Harry looked so bad he should clothe himself. Harry waited until the enormous boy needed to use the bathroom. Harry was using the vacuum, so as soon as Dudley closed the door, Harry quickly ran to the front of the house, using the vacuum to block his noise, and grabbed the cupboard key from the key stand. Making his way to the cupboard, he unlocked it, and quickly grabbed everything he needed. His wand, school books, luggage. Quietly and swiftly, Harry ran to his room, packing the luggage full of clothes, and anything else he thought he would need. Time was working against Harry. He didn’t have time to double-check he had everything as he ran out of the room, his trunk being pulled behind him in one hand as he carried his luggage in the other. He did not care about the noise he was making. He just needed to get out of the front door, turn, and run.

“Dog!” Dudley’s voice yelled out from behind him. Harry did not turn to look. He knew if he did, he was done for. Harry kicked the front door open, surprised at his own strength, and ran out of Number 4 Private Drive for the last time. Dudley was still yelling behind him, chasing him, but Harry did not care. He turned right and started running.

Harry’s breath came in pants as he ran away from Number 4 Private Drive. Behind him, the voice of his abuser kept yelling, “Harry! Harry, come back!”

The street was surprisingly empty for a summer day, and Harry used that as an advantage as he continued running. He didn’t know where to go; he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get away, that much is known. But by the rate Harry was moving, and considering that he was malnourished and abused, Harry knew that eventually, before he even got close to the borders of Little Whinging, never mind Surrey, Dudley would catch up to him. And then what? Beat him? Force him to do the cruel, unimaginable acts he forced him to do? No, Harry refused to do any of that, he was going to get away from it all. His Trunk kept skipping and bouncing as he ran down the sidewalk, and that was when Harry got an idea. He needed to Apparate. He needed to get somewhere safe, he needed to get to the Burrow. Not knowing what he was doing, Harry looked for a corner, or an alleyway to turn into. Dudley was still chasing him, and his wand was in his pocket, so with much awkwardness, Harry used his arm to hug his luggage to his side as he struggled to get his wand out. Bits of muggle money fell out, coins and pounds, but Harry didn’t care. Who knows, maybe his greedy, glutinous abuser of a cousin would stop to collect them.

Harry made a sound of triumph as he pulled his wand out of his pocket, and thought with his entire mind about the Burrow. He pictured the house, how it’s slanted and added-on appearance seemed to tower over the countryside, how his best friend is probably there now, forced to de-gnome the garden by his mother as she tends the chicken coop. He thought hard about the Burrow, the fun he had there, the food Mrs. Weasley gave him, but for some reason Harry kept focusing on the trees. The trees that surrounded the Burrow, the small forest where he first met Cedric, who literally fell down on top of his life. His mind just continued to envision the trees, and before Harry knew it, as he took a step he felt a harsh pull from his navel.

Everything went black, he was pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his ear-drums were being pushed deeper into his skull. It felt as if Harry was being forced into a very tight rubber tube. He couldn’t scream. And as soon as it started, it stopped. The iron bands disappeared, his head felt normal, and he was out of the rubber tube. Only he didn’t felt safe. He felt extreme pain. His body was covered in cuts, as if small chunks of his body were left behind when he Apparated. His eyes opened because of the pain and saw he was surrounded by trees before the vision became blurred by his tears. Then, everything went black.

 

Draco Malfoy enjoyed his life. He was extremely handsome, being tall and lean with a naturally sculpted body, his hair was a rare platinum blonde that made any onlooker curious, and he had the most silver eyes in all of England. He was also extremely rich, being the heir to the old and vast Malfoy Fortune including its chain of apothecaries that all held rare and expensive ingredients, several robes stores, a natural preserve for dragons, and a large and well deserved influence over the Ministry of Magic. Boys and girls wanted him, and he couldn’t be happier with that knowing that neither would ever have him. No, there is only room for one spouse in Draco Malfoy’s life, and he already knew their name: Harry Potter. He knew that it seemed impossible, given that the Gryffindor currently hated him, but Draco knew that one day, Harry would fall for his charms.

“What are you thinking?” Blaise Zabini chuckled. Both boys were in the gardens at Malfoy Manor. It was better than being coped up inside the Manor, which currently housed several Death Eaters in preparation for the Dark Lord.

“Just how I can woo Harry Potter,” Draco said as they walked past a bed of lilies.

Blaise chuckled, “You know that we are on opposing sides correct? No matter how cute Potter is.”

“I know,” Draco said. “Still, I will work around it.”

“What? You’re going to join Dumbledore?” Blaise laughed.

“Heavens no! I’ll just have to show Harry the advantages of the Dark Arts. It was his side that ruthlessly labeled them that, after all,” Draco said.

“Yes, because the Killing Curse can be so romantic,” Blaise said dead-pan.

“Oh sod off Zabini!” Draco said a hint of a blush on his pale cheeks. Blaise laughed and shook his head. They’ve turned a corner, approaching a mixture of white lilies and exotic purple flowers when they heard a scream.

“What was that?” Blaise asked, looking around. It sounded it came from the forest that surrounded Malfoy Manor, just off of the property. Both he and Draco looked up to see birds flying from the trees. The scream was loud, painful, as if the howl of life—and then it stopped.

“Come on, let’s check it out before those idiots hear it,” Draco said, running off in the direction of the scream. Who would dare try and intrude upon Malfoy Manor?

The two friends ran into the trees, their forms easily being consumed by the forest. But Draco didn’t get lost, he explored these trees for sixteen years, he knew ever bark, branch, and beaten path of this forest. He quickly ran down the forest, turning at a large oak tree, Zabini barely keeping up.

Draco had to stop short, or else he would have tripped over a large trunk. He looked around to see the trunk, the large luggage, clothing and books scattered around everywhere. And there, in the middle, was Harry Potter. Only his body was badly damaged, and there was blood everywhere. Draco got to his knees and placed his ear on Harry’s chest. Thankfully, he was still breathing.

“Blaise!” he shouted, “Come quick!”

Blaise caught up and panted slightly as he looked down. “Damn,” he said, looking at Draco, both boys hold a small smile of relief. “Seems like the little lion got lost.”

Draco nodded and looked around. “We need to get him back to my room. Hurry,” he said. He snapped his fingers and ordered the several house-elves that appeared to clean up Harry’s belongings and bring them to his rooms. Then, carefully so to not hurt him, Draco and Blaise lifted Harry up and begun the process of carrying him towards Malfoy Manor.


	2. Malfoy's Care

Chapter II

Malfoy’s Care

Draco couldn’t help but smile when he looked at Harry in his bed. The Gryffindor was no longer in his blood-stained clothes, instead wearing one of the smaller pairs of Draco’s silk pajamas. His cuts were healed and bandaged to the best of his and Blaise’s abilities, using the only Healing spells they knew. Draco sat down near his bed and just watched the small Gryffindor sleep, with a frown on his face. “Who could have done such a thing?” he asked out loud.

“Who knows,” Blaise shrugged, leaning against a windowsill. “I know some of the damage was from Harry trying to Apparate. The others… I don’t know. …I wonder where he was trying to go.”

Draco nodded, but didn’t move from his spot. Harry looked so peaceful sleeping in his bed. He didn’t want to disturb him at all.

“Draco… what are we going to do about your parents? Or those Death Eaters?” Blaise asked after a while.

Draco’s skin paled. He looked at Blaise, eyes wide for a moment before returning to normal. “Right now, nothing. Harry’s under our care right? We have to make sure he wakes up, then find out what the hell happened to him.”

Blaise nodded and looked at Harry. “Think Dumbledore knows? About his injuries?”

“I can’t see how he doesn’t!” Draco said. “Look at Harry, I’m amazed he doesn’t have scars!”

Blaise moved towards the bed, sitting down next to Draco, and moving to fix Harry’s hair gently. “Thank God whatever monster did this didn’t touch Harry’s face.”

“I know,” Draco nodded. “I would have killed the monster on spot if they touched his face.” Blaise couldn’t help but chuckled, shaking his head. Draco looked at his best friend confused, “What?”

“You’re such a mother dragon Draco,” Blaise said smirking. He looked at Harry and said, “But I can see why. If you haven’t already claimed him, I would be trying to get him.” Blaise winked at Draco.

Draco chuckled. “Yeah, well what’s wrong with being a dragon? I bet I’d have huge wings, and could simply spit fire at anyone I want.”

“First one being Dumbledore?”

“No, the first one being whoever done this to Harry!” Draco said, smirking sadistically. “Then Dumbledore.”

Blaise nodded and looked at Harry for a moment before standing up. “Well, I’ll be back. Hungry.”

Draco nodded and continued to stay seated as his best friend left his room. With a sigh, Draco relaxed into his chair and looked around. His room seemed different somehow. There were two wide windows that he always had covered with his dark emerald curtains, but today they were opened, allowing the afternoon sun to pour into the room. The light fell on Draco’s immense bed showed the satin sheets that now fell upon Harry’s body, the four poster bed’s curtains tied to the posts. All around the room bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books ranging from fictions Draco read as a child and fictions he read now, to textbooks about every subject possible. In the corner was Draco’s desk, where he eagle hawk stood in his cage, peering curiously at the boy in his master’s bed. Next to it was an iron cauldron, stained from usage, and a cabinet filled with every common-day ingredient.

Draco decided that he had better starting making the potions Harry would need when he wakes up, and walked up to one bookcase, looking for the right book. He found it easily, and opened it. He would need one potion to help heal the wounds, one potion to help with Harry’s throbbing headache he will have when he awakes, and one potion for the sense of wooziness and nauseous that Harry will have. Unfortunately, there was no potion that could fix mal-nourishment. Draco would have to make sure Harry eats properly over the next few days. For some reason, all this responsibility didn’t bother to Draco, in fact he was getting an odd calmness, if not giddiness at the thought of taking care of Harry.

“Maybe I am a mothering dragon,” Draco chuckled as he started cutting up the silverweed. He worked quietly, losing himself in the mechanics of Potion-brewing. He had finished the first potion and was about to start working on the second one when Blaise walked back in. He stayed quiet, taking the chair Draco was in, and sat back as he watched his friend work. A medical aroma started to invade the air from the cauldron, so Draco took a peppermint, crushed it, and added a precise amount to just change the aroma to a sweet peppermint smell. Draco glanced back at his sleeping patient, smiling to himself to see that Harry’s consciousness was still in the realm of dreams.

 

“Dumbledore? Professor Dumbledore?” Molly Weasley’s voice was whispering. Her head was in the fireplace at the headmaster’s office in Hogwarts. “Professor Dumbledore?”

“Yes Molly, what do I owe this pleasure?” Dumbledore smiled as he appeared before the fireplace.

“Ron’s been worrying about Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said. “And I am as well, are you sure that it is safe for the boy to stay with his uncle for the month? I mean with all the Death Eaters and disappearances happening, won’t you think that he would be safer at the Burrow?”

Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head. “No Molly, I am positively certain that Harry is completely safe at his aunt’s and uncle’s house. Voldemort would never look for him there,” Dumbledore said, ignoring the jump Molly’s head made. “But tell young Ronald he needn’t worry long. By the end of the month, Harry will be at the Burrow after he and I finish with a little Hogwarts business.”

“Oh, alright,” Mrs. Weasley said frowning slightly. “Though I don’t think those Muggles feed him enough. Every year he seems to come here skinnier then he’s ever been before! Why, it’s nothing that three helpings can’t fix, but I’m sure they don’t cook enough for a growing boy like Harry.”

Dumbledore chuckled and said, “I will tell them your grievances immediately.”

“Thank you Dumbledore,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m sorry for bothering you like this, but Ron seemed to be worried lately. I just think he seems to be missing his best friend.”

“A feeling we all know too well,” Dumbledore smiled. “We will talk later Molly, I am sure that we are both very busy.”

“Yes, I need to go check the chicken coop,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’ve asked Bill to do it, but all he seems to do is sit around with his fiancé of him.”

“Ah! Then congratulations to the happy couple. Goodbye now Molly.”

“Goodbye sir,” Molly’s head said before disappearing into the fire.

Dumbledore thought no more of the conversation, instead turning his attention to the ring that sat alone on this desk.

 

By the time Draco had the potions completed, it was getting close to lunch time. Blaise offered to get lunch for the two ready in Draco’s room as he sat down next to Harry. As soon as Blaise had the house elves set up a small table, now filled with food, Draco heard a noise next to him. Draco’s attention whipped to the boy on his bed as he groaned.

“Ugh… Mrs. Weasley… Ron?” Harry murmured, his eyes still closed. Draco held his breath as Harry’s eyes opened, revealing the beautiful green eyes that he loved so much. Confusion clouded his eyes as Harry looked. “Where am I?” he asked, a small panic raising in his voice.

“Harry… calm down,” Draco said, making Harry turn to him.

“Malfoy! Malfoy where am I? What have you done to me?” Harry accused, glaring at him.

“Calm down, look here, put your glasses on,” Draco soothed, reaching for Harry’s glasses on his nightstand. “Blaise and I found you in the forest around my manor. You were trying to Apparate somewhere, but you splinched. There were several chunks of skin missing. You were lucky Harry.”

“Why? Just so you can give me to Voldemort?” Harry spat.

Draco frowned. Why would Harry ever think that?

“If we were going to give you to the Dark Lord,” Blaise interrupted from his place at the small table, “we wouldn’t have wasted time healing your wounds. We would have just thrown your unconscious body in the dungeon or something.”

“Where am I?” Harry demanded again, trying to sit up. Draco immediately jumped up, pressing Harry down gently. “That’s not a good idea Harry,” he warned.

“Sod off Malfoy, where am I?” Harry growled in pain.

“My room,” Draco said, forcing Harry to sit down. Harry stopped struggling, too shocked at this piece of information. “We are at Malfoy Manor, and you will not sit up until I make sure that it is safe for you.”

“How do I know you’re just not going to get Death Eaters to drag me to Voldemort?” Harry asked, his glare moving from the platinum blonde haired boy in front of him to the still steaming cauldron in front of the bed. “What was in there?” he demanded.

“Medicine, for you,” Draco said. “And the only ones allowed in his room are Blaise and I. Even the Dark Lord can enter this room if he wishes it.”

That seemed to relax Harry slightly, knowing that Voldemort cannot barge in, in the middle of the night to kill him. But still he eyed the “medicine” with a suspicious gaze. “What type of potions are they?” he demanded.

“While you were out, I made you take a Blood-Replenishing Potion for the blood lost you had, these are a pepper up potion to give you some energy, Essence of Dittany to repair the cuts under your bandages, and those two will help with your headache and nausea,” Draco listed off.

Harry frowned, not wanting to admit that he did have a killer headache, and was feeling nauseous. Draco stood up from the bed and walked over to the desk by the cauldron. He gathered the four potions and placed them next to his bed. “As soon as you have those, I’ll get you some food, okay?” Draco said.

Harry eyed the potions suspiciously as Draco sat down next to the bed. Draco scoffed and said, “Seriously Harry, if I was going to poison you, I would have done so when you’re unconscious.”

Harry gave him a sharp look and said, “How do I know you’re not a sick sadist or something?”

“Honestly,” Draco sighed. He took the Pepper-Up potions and uncorked it. He tipped the bottle and drank half of the potion. “There, see? Not poisonous.”

He gave the rest of the potion to Harry, and after a look of hesitation, Harry drained it. As soon as he did so, Harry felt better the second the potion went down his throat. Feeling a warm feeling, Harry took the other potions and drained them, grimacing at the tastes. But still, he felt instantly better. His nausea was immediately gone, as well as his headache. He felt a strange sensation on his skin, and looked down to the bandages that covered his body. Draco reached slowly for a bandage on his arm, and started to unwrap it, revealing sore, but clear skin. He smiled and said, “See Harry? All better.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry muttered, rubbing his sore skin, surprised to see the damage Dudley did was gone as well.

“You’re welcome Harry,” Draco smiled. “Now, how about you sit up and Blaise and I will get you some food?”

“I can walk by myself thanks,” Harry spat.

Draco glared at him. “Harry Potter,” he said, his voice taking a different tone that Harry never heard before. “I told you I will not allow you out of my bed until I say so. Now sit up so you can eat.”

Harry almost muttered “yes sir,” Draco momentarily reminding him of Uncle Vernon and Dudley. He meekly sat up, and kept silent. Draco was pleased at first at Harry’s compliance, but was troubled at how easy it was. He pushed it to the back of his mind as he walked over to the small table filled with food. “What do you want Harry? Blaise got the elves to cook Italian food for some reason.”

“I-I don’t know,” Harry said. “The only Italian stuff I know is pasta.”

Blaise gave Harry a sympathetic look, and said, “Draco, give him some Caprese salad to start. We have Pasta Harry, but it’s not what you’re used to,” he chuckled. “We also have some ham.”

Harry nodded and managed a blush as his stomach openly and loudly grumbled at the thought of food. Draco gathered the food items on a plate and walked towards Harry. He sat down and looked as if he was about to feed him.

“I swear Malfoy, if you try to feed me I will hex you into a ferret, Dark Lord or no,” Harry said irritated. He was finally free of the Dursleys, only to end up in the clutches of Malfoy. And it looks like Malfoy wasn’t letting him go soon. At least he isn’t making Harry do chores naked.

Harry was surprised when he saw Malfoy chuckle. He took out his wand, and transfigured one of the pillows Harry wasn’t resting on into a silver tray, which floated gently in front of the boy. Draco placed Harry’s plate on top of the tray and sat up. “There you go, take your time eating. I don’t know how it will react to the potions.”

Harry nodded and slowly took a bite from his plate, surprised when he saw that it was actually good. He slowly found himself eating with vigor, each bite coming more quickly after the next. It felt good to each actual food after so long. The last meal he ever had was the ending feast at Hogwarts. Before he knew it, his plate was empty and Harry blushed when he realized that he wanted more. He made to get out of bed, but remembered what Malfoy had told him. So meekly, he said, “Malfoy… am I allowed to get some more?”

“Of course you are,” Draco said, getting up. “What do you think you are, our prisoner?”

“Aren’t I?”

“No Harry, you’re our guests,” Draco said, taking Harry’s plate. He refilled it and brought it to Harry, sitting down. He looked at him and said, “Before I give this to you, I want to know one thing.”

“What?”

“Why were you trying to Apparate, and where were you going?” Draco asked.

Harry froze, his spine stiffening. There’s no way he could tell them about the Dursleys, about Dudley. They would only laugh, only mock. And then what? Start treating him like Dudley did? Harry grimaced inside. He didn’t want to be treated like that anymore, didn’t want to be called “Dog” or “Mutt” anymore. It was so dehumanizing.

“Harry…” Draco said softly.

Harry felt the bed dip and turned to see Zabini sitting next to him, giving a comforting smile. “It’s okay Harry,” the olive-skinned boy said softly. “Draco and I… we just want to help. You believe that do you?”

“Yeah… I guess so,” Harry admitted. He looked at the two of them. They already hated him, Harry thought. Why not make them hate him more?

“Good,” Zabini said. “Now, why happened at your home that made you run away?”

Harry stayed quiet, gathering his thoughts, wondering how the two will react. Most likely laugh, maybe hit him. That was all he knew. Cho Chang and Ginny slapped him when they found out he was gay. Though, maybe it was because Cho was dating Cedric, who Harry unfortunately fell in love with.

“Harry… come on, tell us,” Draco said. “I thought we were school rivals, we’re supposed to know each other’s nasty secrets,” he gave a small smirk.

Harry gave a small chuckle and looked at the both of them. “Fine… just don’t hit me right away after you find out,” he said dejectedly. “I want to finish my lunch first.”

Draco was about to argue that they would never hit him, when Blaise stopped him. “Okay, tell us,” he said.

Harry looked at the both of them, and decided why not. “I live with muggles. They’re my mum’s family, my aunt’s her sister. They’ve made me do all the chores, cook for them, clean for them… and Dudley is the worst. He uses me as a punching bag, and it only got worse when he found out I’m a faggot.”

He waited for the laughter, he waited for Zabini or Malfoy to push him off. But they didn’t. Instead he felt arms around him. He looked confused at the two Slytherins. Why were his enemies hugging him. He struggled, but they’ve just held him tighter.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” Blaise whispered.

Draco nodded, “You don’t need to worry about those stupid muggles anymore. It’s okay. Hey, look at us.” Harry looked at them confused. They were both smiling gently at him, and for some reason he felt… calm around them, at peace. “The world’s a hateful place for us, so we got ot stick together. Okay?”

“You mean you’re both…”

“Gay? Yeah, yeah we are,” Draco nodded.

“Harry… don’t you dare call yourself by that awful word ever again, do you hear me?” Blaise said, frowning. “You’re not a faggot, you’re a powerful wizard who loves boys. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, frowning when he felt tears welling up.

“Who just unfortunately happened to be a Gryffindor,” Draco couldn’t help but say. But instead of feeling insulted, Harry laughed. He laughed, and he found himself moving his arms to wrap around both Blaise and Draco. For once, after all this time, Harry felt truly safe, as if he belonged here, in this bed, surrounded by both Draco and Blaise.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, hugging each other. His cheeks were stained with tears he didn’t know he shed when he looked at both of them. “Thank you…” he said. “You two… you’re the first ones I’ve ever told, about the fa—gay thing.”

“Thanks for telling us Harry,” Blaise smiled.

Harry looked down at his body. Under Draco’s silk pajamas was a broken, beaten body that Harry hated. He never felt so weak.

“Harry, what’s the matter?” Draco asked.

“My body…” Harry said. “You guys say I’m a powerful wizard but… I’ve never felt so weak.”

Both Blaise and Draco frowned at each other. “You feel weak?” Draco asked, rubbing Harry’s back, “Then the answer’s simple, right Blaise?”

“It is?”

“We’ll just build you up again,” Draco said. “I don’t know the full details, but it sounds like the muggles broke you down. We’re going to make sure you’ll be back to your old self and—“

“No! Not my old self, I don’t want that,” Harry practically yelled.

“Why not Harry?” Blaise asked.

“I—I hated myself,” Harry said. “Hated that I was gay…tired to hide it using Cho and Ginny, didn’t work. I was too weak to be myself… too weak to save him, so please, not my old self!”

“Okay,” Draco nodded. “Not your old self. We’ll make you better. Deal?”

Harry looked at the both of them, his attention turning from Draco to Blaise. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Deal.”

“Perfect,” Draco smiled. “Here, finish your lunch.”

After lunch, Draco moved to Harry and pulled the cover off of him. He gently helped Harry take off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers on, and checked his wounds. “The potions are working brilliantly, if I don’t say so myself,” he said with a bit of smugness. His fingers glided over Harry’s pale skin, frowning at how skinny Harry is. “I can practically fill your bones though… you sure you ate enough?”

“I’m not hungry,” was all Harry said.

Draco nodded and continued to examine his body. “Thankfully, there’s no scars I can see. Unless they’ve…”

“No! They’ve never touched me there,” Harry said quickly.

Draco nodded and continued looking around Harry’s body. “Well, good news, we don’t need to bring you to St. Mungo’s. I’m going to make you more powerful than you ever were before, Harry. Who knows, you might be as strong as I am,” he chuckled.

Harry just nodded. The door opened and Blaise walked in. “There are no Death Eaters here,” he said.

“That’s good,” Draco nodded. “I don’t them seeing Harry yet.”

“Yet? What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“Well Harry, I promise that I will never lie to you,” Draco said. “Since you told us the truth, we’ll tell you. Blaise and I use Dark Magic. We support the Dark Lord. Now, now no—don’t get up, listen to me! The Ministry, they have laws upon laws that discriminate against us. The worst one of all is a law… a law that Dumbledore himself made pass.”

“And what law is that?”

Draco gave a deep breath and said with a cold, impassionate voice, as if that was the only way he could say it without breaking down, “Any baby born from a same-sex union… is to be aborted immediately.”

“But that’s awful!” Harry gasped. “It can’t be true!”

Draco nodded. “It is, sadly. The Ministry just covers it up.”

“If you don’t believe us, I can get you some reports,” Blaise offered. “There are some in Mr. Malfoy’s office, I can nick them for you to read.”

“No… no I don’t think so,” Harry frowned. “But… why would Dumbledore do such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said. “But that is why we follow the Dark Lord. He promises that he’ll topple the Ministry of Magic, and build a new one in its place. He sees a union between same-sex couples as the strongest magic ever presented. Their magical cores react to each other and, well for us, a womb is formed for the child, as well as a birthing canal when the time comes.”

Harry frowned. He never thought that he was able to have children, but now that he knew it was possible… he wanted to protect that. But the idea of working with Voldemort, the man who killed his parents… he didn’t think he was ready for that. “I don’t think… that I’m ready to work with Voldemort,” he began. “But… I want to hear this for myself, from Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, anybody. If it’s true… if what you’re saying is true… then I want to help, in any way I can.”

“Thank you Harry,” Draco smiled. “I wish that it wasn’t true. Now, come on, how about we go for a walk for a bit?”

Harry nodded and finally got out of bed, happy to feel the weight on his feet again. He looked around and realized that he had nothing to wear. “The elves are cleaning your clothes,” Draco explained. “So you can borrow one of mine. I’m sure there’s something that fits you. …”

Harry nodded and five minutes later they’ve found an old pair of clothes and robe that fitted Harry perfectly. The three boys walked down to the gardens and Harry squinted at the summer sun, before looking around.

The Malfoy gardens were expansive, Harry could see a sea of flowers and hedges that hugged several winding paths. “Blaise and I like to fly around, play one-on-one Quidditch over the garden. They are also good for practicing charms and transfigurations since obviously we don’t need to worry about the Trace,” Draco explained.

“The what?” Harry asked.

“The Trace,” Draco said. “You do know what the Trace is, right?”

“No, I don’t,” Harry said. “What is the Trace?”

“It’s a charm that’s placed on all under-aged witches and wizards,” Blaise explained. “The Ministry of Magic will know if magic is performed near an under-aged wizard. Most of the time, they just assume it is the parents or adult witches and wizards who are using the magic, so they just ignore homes like Draco’s Manor.”

“They’re… watching us?” Harry grimaced. First he learned that they’ve basically murdered babies, and now they were watching his every move! “So that is how they’ve knew about Dobby in my second year… and the Dementors last year.”

“Yeah, though really they are very inconsistent with it,” Draco explained. “It’s mostly to just get people in trouble when they want to.”

Harry nodded and they continued on the walk, enjoying the fresh air and change of scenery. “You know, you never did tell us where you were trying to go, Harry,” Draco said.

“The Burrow,” Harry automatically answered. “Ron’s home. I always go there during the summer, but Dumbledore told me that I had to spend at least a month with my aunt and uncle.”

Both Slytherins nodded. “Where did you even live? With these muggles, I mean,” Blaise asked.

“A regular sized house in Private Drive at Little Whinging in Surry. Number 4,” Harry said bitterly. “First ten years of my life they had me in a cupboard under the stairs. My first Hogwarts letter was actually addressed, _Harry Potter Cupboard-Under-the-Stairs_.”

“Your first?” Blaise asked, temporarily ignoring that Harry lived in a cupboard.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Uncle Vernon ripped up any letters I’ve gotten. Hagrid had to come and get me personally on my eleventh birthday.”

“Man… we had the wrong idea with your summer life,” Blaise admitted.

“What… what did you think my summer life was like?” Harry asked.

“Well, it’s no secret that the Potter family is rich,” Draco explained bashfully. “So we all had a general idea that you were… well off. But living in a cupboard! … I’m sorry Harry.”

“No, don’t apologize, you don’t have to,” Harry said frowning. “There was no way you could have known.”

“But if I did, there was no way I would have acted that much of a prat to you,” Draco argued.

“No, you would still be a prat,” Harry chuckled. He was still surprised how at ease he felt between Draco and Blaise, but he started to like it. It felt like having two pillars of support that he never had before. Sure, there were always Ron and Hermione, but he couldn’t connect with those two as he could with Blaise and Draco, the Slytherins shared the same sexuality with him, and that opened new doors of relationships that he didn’t think possible at all.

He found himself smiling at Draco’s laugh as he leaned a little against Blaise. While he did eat, and the two still healed his wounds, Harry found himself physically exhausted either from the failed apparition, him running away from the Dursleys, the beatings Dudley gave him, or maybe a mixture of all three that cumulated from Harry’s need to use Blaise as a cane. Not that the Italian Slytherin mind, of course.

The three talked and walked throughout the afternoon, time slipping away peacefully for Harry. When Draco suggested they sit down, both Slytherins sat close to Harry as they relaxed on an ornate bench. The sun was starting to set when a shadow came over them.

“Well… what have we here?” a cold voice sneered. Harry’s heart sank as he feared to look up, not wanting to acknowledge the owner’s existence. “Draco, you haven’t told me we had a special guest. … I fear we must inform the Dark Lord at once.”


	3. Meetings

Chapter III

Meetings

Ron Weasley was worried. He didn’t know why though. He woke up that morning feeling… strange. It was a month until Harry was supposed to come to the Burrow in a month, but Ron couldn’t wait that long. Something was bothering the redhead as looked at Harry’s empty bed in his room. He couldn’t explain this feeling, but something felt off. As he ate breakfast with his family and Fleur Delacour, Bill’s fiancé, his worriment only increased as he stared at his food. “Ron, honestly you barely touched your food since you came down here,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Move back so I can check you.”

“I’m fine mum,” Ron muttered. “Not sick.”

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “How about I make some soup for you during lunch? Ginny, be a dear and go get the carrots from the garden after breakfast,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“I’m not sick,” Ron said again at the annoyed look his sister was giving him. “I’m just worried.”

“But what?”

“Harry,” Ron said frowning. “I haven’t gotten a letter from him since the summer started. And he sent Hedwig here! Harry never does that.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded, “Okay then, if it makes you feel better I’ll ask Professor Dumbledore later today. But I will still be making that soup just in case, so Ginny: carrots.”

Ginny made an annoyed sound as she ate. Ron felt a little better, but still the uneasiness rested inside him as he ate his food, his mind going away from the Burrow and to wherever Harry was.

 

Harry was tied, ropes binding his wrists together. Two masked Death Eaters were escorting him, while Draco and Blaise followed, arguing and threatening the two adult wizard with every step. “Don’t you dare hurt him!” Draco said. “Harry is my guest, and I swear if either of you harm a single hair on his body—“

“Let him go! This does not involve the Dark Lord, and it doesn’t involve you!”

“Shut up,” the Death Eaters grunted. For one, one Death Eater casted a stinging hex at Harry, the Gryffindor hissed in pain and missed a step, almost falling to the ground. Draco moved to help Harry, but the two Death Eaters pushed him back. They were in the main foyer of the mansion; two curving staircases hugged the far wall as they led to the second floor landing. Portraits of Malfoys past hung on the wall, the ancestors staring down at the living.

“You damn bitch! I swear I’ll—“

“You’ll do what Malfoy?” a cold voice sneered. Fear filled Harry as Lord Voldemort appeared in front of them. His cold red eyes staring down at the small group, a sadistic grin morphing on his pale face as he looked down onto Harry. “Potter… what is Dumbledore’s pet doing here I wonder?”

“Lucius found him with his son and friend, my Lord,” one of the two Death Eaters said. Voldemort did not even looked at the man, his eyes only solely on Harry. “Tell me Harry, why shouldn’t I just kill you now? After all, it seems to me that you are surrendering.”

Harry looked up at Voldemort, a look if defiance on his face as he struggled out of the Death Eater’s grips. He’ll be fine, as long as Draco and Blaise are with him. The two Death Eaters stepped back as Harry stood on his two feet, his hands still tied together in front of him. “No, I am not surrendering,” Harry said.

“Oh… then why are you here? Is it that you have a Death Wish Potter?” Voldemort asked, watching the Gryffindor with interest, his wand twirling between his fingertips.

“No,” Harry said, taking a small step closer towards Draco and Blaise. “I got here by an Apparition mistake. Draco and Blaise patched me up. I’m going to spend more time here until I’m forced to return for Dumbledore. Then, I have some questions that I will ask him.”

“Questions?” Voldemort smirked, staring at Harry as he walked slowly around the trio, as if a snake playing with its prey. “And, please, tell me what type of questions will you be asking Dumbledore?”

“About the Ministry Laws against people like me,” Harry said. “I want to know if it’s true, if they’re killing babies just because two guys are having it.”

“And what if it is?” Voldemort asked, his voice lowering to a cold whispered, a snake surrounding his prey. “What will you do, when you find out the truth about said Laws? Dumbledore suggested them, of course. Enforces them at Hogwarts. What will you do Harry?”

“I’ll help Draco and Blaise to change them,” Harry said, not losing his guard as he felt Draco’s and Blaise’s hands on his shoulder. “I’ll do anything necessary to make sure they’re changed.”

“Anything you say?” Voldemort asked. “Would you perform whatever spell would be necessary to complete your task? Would you pour poison into the Minister’s drink, to make sure he stays quiet? Tell me Potter, would you kill anyone who gets in your way, because they stand in front of change?”

“I—err…” Harry said, biting his lip. He didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Voldemort. He had a feeling if he showed one inch of weakness he would be a dead man. “Yes,” he finally said.

“Interesting… are you certain in your convictions, or are you just saying that in a pitiful way to save yourself I wonder,” Voldemort mused.

“My Lord, if I may,” Draco said. “Harry was broken down. Not revealing his personal reasons, Dumbledore caused Harry to shatter. Blaise and I tasked ourselves to build Harry again, to make him stronger.”

“It’s true, my Lord,” Blaise said. “With our guidance, Harry will become more powerful than he could even imagine. More powerful than even Dumbledore could anticipate.”

“And what will you do with this power, who will you oppose?” Voldemort asked. He stopped in front of Harry and they stared at each other. Though he did not say it explicitly, Harry somehow knew that this was the final question Voldemort would ask. Everything rode on his answer: his life, his death, the fates of Draco and Blaise, everything. “Well, Harry Potter?”

Harry looked at Voldemort and relied on Draco and Blaise holding him, supporting him. Voldemort waited surprisingly patiently, his wand still in his fingertips as he waited for Harry’s answers. Harry’s mind racked, searching for the perfect answer that would not only save him, but Blaise and Draco as well. His turned his head, looking at his two new friends, and took another step, making it obvious who he was talking about as the two Slytherins gotten closer to him. It was as if two snakes ensnarled themselves around a lion, their venom slowly injecting into the lion’s veins, replacing his blood with their will. Harry finally met Voldemort’s eyes, his voice confident and strong as he said, “Our enemies.”

Voldemort stared at the trio for a time, his face showing no emotions. Harry did not falter, his gaze did not drop as they both continue to stare at each other. Finally, as if he had finally finished analyzing every inch of Harry, Voldemort said, “Interesting… so you would use your powers against your enemies you say? Raw power is a dangerous thing Potter, how will these two teach you to channel it?”

“Err—I—“ Harry said, looking at Blaise and Draco.

Voldemort scoffed and looked at the three teenagers. “You all remind me of a wizard I’ve known long ago. He was a powerful wizard, with a well of untapped magic I have never seen before. It was a waste, the way Hogwarts was teaching him. He was only scratching at the surface of his potential. So, I’ve decided to take him under my wing. During my rise, he quickly became my trusted advisor, being second only to me. He is gone now, but I see the potential did not go with him. Potter! If what you tell me is true, then at eight pm tonight we shall meet in my new office. Fail to arrive and your intentions will not matter to me. I shall kill you.”

Harry just nodded. Voldemort said no more and just turned on the spot, disappearing in black smoke. When he was sure the Dark Lord was gone, Harry’s knees gave way and collapsed into Draco’s and Blaise’s holds. “What just happened?” he asked, looking at the two exhausted.

“I think… he just approved of you staying here,” Blaise said, his hands on Harry’s back and chest. Harry looked at Blaise, before looking at Draco. An emotion of relief flooded Harry and his arms moved on their own as he whipped around and hugged both boys. The Slytherins returned the hug, Harry’s body becoming lost in their heat and mass, but he didn’t mind. Harry found himself wanting this, wanting to be lost between Draco and Blaise as the Slytherins lead him, teach him, show him. He was broken, maybe for a long time, but now he was in good hands. Harry, in that moment, decided to put all of his faith, trust, and power into Draco’s and Blaise’s hands. They will raise him right. He just knows they will.

 

“Are you really that worried about Harry?” Hermione asked. They were busy dusting the Burrow, Hermione trying to stay away from Fleur, or “Phlegm” as she and Ginny called her. She arrived at the Burrow after breakfast, and Ron quickly filled her in on the situation.

“Well… a bit yeah,” Ron said. “It’s not that I have anything to show I’m right but… just a feeling, you know?”

Hermione frowned, not understanding her friend’s concerns. “But Ron, didn’t your mum talk with Dumbledore?”

“Yeah, but still… I can’t get rid of this feeling,” Ron said.

“I’m sure he’s fine Ron,” Hermione said, stretching to get into a corner with a feather duster. “Dumbledore told us that he has to stay at his relatives for a month, then he’s going to get him.”

“I know but with all the recent Death Eater activities,” Ron worried, “Don’t you think it would be easier if Harry was just here?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Hermione frowned. “If Dumbledore thinks it’s safe enough, then I’m sure it is.”

“That’s the problem,” Ron muttered to himself. “I can’t help but feel he’s wrong.” He frowned as he continued to dust. It was true that he worried for Harry, but there was another reason. A reason that Ron was afraid to even mention to Hermione, to his parents, to anybody. There was a reason why he barely saw his brother Charlie anymore. Last time he was here, Charlie told his parents something. Ron had a feeling of what he told them, but they wouldn’t explain it to the rest of the Weasley clan. Only that Charlie decided to stay at Romania for a longer time.

“Ron… Ron!” Hermione voice yelled at him. Ron snapped out of his thoughts and looked at her.

“What?” he snapped.

“You’re dusting a broom…” Hermione said slowly, pointing to the house-broom leaning against the corner that Ron spent the last five minutes dusting.

“Oh…” Ron said, his face reddening in embarrassment. Hermione chuckled friendly. Ron continued to dust the room, trying to keep his mind away from his worriment for Harry.

It was lunch time when they finished dusting the room. Ron walked into the kitchen to find his mother stirring the soup she said she would make. “I’ve talked with Dumbledore,” she said. “I tried asking him if Harry could come sooner, but he said no. He says that You-Know-Who would never look for him at his muggle relatives. Though I do wish they would feed him more. I swear, every year that boy seems to come here skinner and skinner as he sprouts up! –Ah Hermione, thank you dearly, if you can just put those bowls on the table then, thank you— So I don’t think there’s anything we can do Ron. We’ll just have to wait for Harry to come here, and everything will go on like normal.”

Ron looked at his mother, but for some odd reason what she said didn’t comfort Ron, it only made him feel even worst as his mind started reeling over any and all horrible events that could happen in a month. He didn’t know how he was able to stomach the soup, his mind enwrapped with horrible pictures of Harry ill, Harry broken, Harry getting in one of those muggle car crashes he heard about.

By the end of lunch Ron retreated to his room. He turned around when he heard a hooting sound and saw Hedwig. An idea formed in his head as he quickly ran to the very small desk, and wrote out a quick letter.

“You always know where Harry is yeah?” Ron asked as he opened Hedwig’s cage. He tied the letter to her leg and said, “Can you take this to him? Quickly?” As soon as Ron opened his window, Hedwig flew out, her snowy-white wings outstretched as she took to the air after a long break, rapidly becoming smaller and smaller until she vanished behind the horizon.

 

“How do you know all this?” a child asked, raising her hand. The pub was still the same as when the man started his story. The cloaked man stopped mid sentence and looked down at her, confused. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“How do you know all of this happened?” the girl asked again. “Are you telling us the truth?”

“Yes, yes I am telling you the truth, all of this actually happened from the muggles, to Harry running away, being kept by Blaise and Draco, everything,” the man nodded. “True, I wasn’t personally there during those months, but I caught up soon. As soon as Hogwarts began, I caught up with them.”

“Then why didn’t you start there?” another kid asked, raising his hand.

“Because if we just started there, then none of this would make sense, would it?” the man chuckled. He looked around and checked his watch. “Holy smokes, is it already seven? Have any of you kids eaten your dinner yet? How about we take a break for that, I’ll be back from the loo and then we will figure out what to have, alright?” the man said, standing up.

As soon as he was gone, the children started talking. “I bet he’s lying, there’s no way he could know all of this,” the first girl said.

“Nah-uh, he’s telling the truth! I know it!” Tommy Finnigan said, crossing his arms. “Daddy and Dad are Harry Malfoy’s friends, and they told me how he and Mr. Malfoy met!” He looked around the small group of kids. In the back were two kids who could have been no older than five or six. They were sitting quietly, holding hands as they looked around at the strange group of children. “You know he’s telling the truth, right?” the eight year old Tommy Finnigan asked the twins.

Surprised and shocked as the entire group seemed to turn their attention on them. The twins only looked at each other before nodding.

“Weirdoes,” Flint muttered, the group quickly forgetting about the twins. “The guy’s obviously lying! I just know it. My dad told me what really happened.”

“Oh? And did he tell you Flint?” Sam accused. Flint stuck his nose up at her and said, “Wouldn’t you like to know Frog-breath?”

“Hey! Don’t call her that Troll-brains!” Tommy yelled.

“Ha! What’s the matter Finnigan? Got a crush on Sam?” Flint said, his voice going mushy. Both Sam and Tommy’s face revolted in the childish way whenever love was involved. “Gross no!” They both said.

“Ha! You do! You really do!” Flint laughed.

“Shut up Flint, this has nothing to do with the man,” a boy said frowning. He had glasses and red hair, clothes a bit baggy for his lean body as his skinny arms crossed over his chest.

“And who asked you Hugo?” Flint sneered.

“The guys telling the truth! Tommy’s right!” Hugo argued.

“Shh! He’s coming back!” Sam hushed, pointing to the man walking back towards them. The children could see he was smiling under his robe.

“Nice to see my story has you all excited kids,” the man chuckled. He looked around and counted. “Let’s see, one, two, three four, five, there’s eight of you guys, plus me that’s nine… how about we go for the old fashion muggle favorite Fish and Chips. Sounds good?” he asked.

There was a chorus of agreement and the man got the barmaid’s attention for nine orders of Fish and Chips, and another round of butterbeer, giving her ten Galleons. She smiled, pocketed the money, and went to give the order. “Now,” the man said, rubbing his hands together, “While we wait, why not we continue for a bit? Where was I?”

“Ron just sent the letter to Harry!” Sam piped out. She leaned towards the second girl and whispered, “I bet it’s a love letter!”

“It can’t be that, Harry’s a Malfoy! He’s the Minister’s husband,” Flint called out.

“Well he wasn’t at the time Flint!” Sam said. “He could have just had a—had a—what was that word again Tommy?”

“A fling,” Tommy said.

Sam nodded, “That’s right a fling!”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “No, Ron and Harry did not have a fling. They are the bestest of friends, they could never have done something like that. Anyway, Hedwig flew through the hot summer air, the sun slowly moving its way towards the horizon as the moon came up on the other side. It was night time when she reached her master, around six. …”

 

Harry turned when he heard a light tapping sound on the window. He was in Draco’s room with Draco and Blaise. The two Slytherins were having house-elves set up a table for dinner, deciding that they should dine alone that night instead of eating in the main dining room. “Hedwig!” Harry said, rushing to the window and latching it open. “Hedwig, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Ron?” he asked as his owl landed on a perch. The owl held out her leg, and showed Harry the letter.

Curious, Harry took it and unfolded the paper, seeing Ron’s handwriting. “From Ron? But why would he write to me?”

_Harry,_

_I keep worrying about you mate. Mum and Dumbledore keep telling me that you’re alright and we’ll see each other in a month, but I can’t shake this feeling. I haven’t heard from you ever since the year ended. Can you let me know that you’re alright? You’re not hurt are you? If you are, I’ll come straight to the muggles’ house and bring you here myself._

_Ron_

“Ron…” Harry said to himself, frowning. Ron was really worried about him. He looked at Draco and Blaise and bit his lip. “It’s from Ron… can I reply to it?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course you can. Why’d you even ask?” Draco asked as he looked at the letter.

“Well… since I’m here and not at the Dursleys,” Harry explained.

Both Slytherins nodded. “Then, just tell him you are safe. You’re with friends who you can’t talk about yet, but you’ll see him in a month,” Blaise said.

Harry nodded and wrote his reply. He gave it to Hedwig and petted her feathers for a bit, reconnecting with his pet. Blaise and Draco let the boy had his privacy as they finished their last preparations. It took five minutes for the elves to fit the empty plates, expensive silverware, and food onto the table, but as soon as they were done, Draco made his way to Harry and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on Harry, it’s time to eat.”

Harry nodded and sent Hedwig back outside the window, sadly closing it behind her. He sat between Draco and Blaise, and the two Slytherins made sure that he was always part of the conversation as they dined. They’ve kept their topics to safe places, talking about Quidditch and their favorite teams. Harry admitted that after the Quidditch World Cup and Triwizard Tournament, he kept a close eye on Victor Krum’s career. “Luckily it seems that the things that happened during our fourth year didn’t affect his Quidditch,” Harry said. “He’s still playing Seeker for the National Bulgarian Team.”

“That’s cool,” Draco said. Harry nodded, taking another bite. Harry smiled. He would have never thought he could ever sit down and have an enjoyable conversation with Draco Malfoy, never mind eating with the handsome Slytherin!

Time past quickly for the three, and before Harry knew it, it was time for his meeting with Voldemort.

“Good luck Harry,” Draco said, hugging the boy tightly. “I know you’ll do just fine.”

“I know you’ll be fine Harry,” Blaise said, hugging Harry as well. Again, he found himself nestled between the two Slytherins, and he felt safe.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled, looking up at both of them. He took a breath and steeled himself as he left the sanctuary of Draco’s room.

Harry made his way down the small hallway that led to the foyer. He climbed down the steps, grateful that there were no Death Eaters in the manor at night. When he reached the first floor, Harry turned towards a set of double doors and knocked, precisely at eight pm.

“Enter Harry,” Voldemort’s voice said, sending a cold shiver down Harry’s spine. Harry pushed open the door and found Voldemort sitting in a large, ornate chair in front of a fire. At his feet slithered Nagini. He smirked as he watched Harry walked in, the doors closing behind him. “I see that you’ve made your decision, Harry,” he smirked.

“You said that we should talk,” Harry said. “Since Dumbledore might be one of my enemies now.”

“He is your enemy Harry,” Voldemort said. “The sooner you learn that fact, the easier this will be.”

“What will be?” Harry asked. Voldemort didn’t move from his seat.

“Right now,” he said, “I am only half convinced I should not kill you Harry. Tonight, you are here to convince me fully. Why shouldn’t I kill you? Why is it that you are here? Do not lie to me Potter,” Voldemort warned. “I am not a patient man. I will know when you lie Potter, and the instant you do, you die. Understand?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Voldemort reclined further into the armchair, and silently motioned Harry to begin. Harry didn’t talk for a long time, trying to find the truths he could give, without telling the murderer every detail of his life.

“I lived with muggles,” Harry began. “They are my mum’s relatives. Aunt Petunia, mum’s sister, Uncle Vernon, and my cousin Dudley. They made me do all of the chores from the cooking, the cleaning, gardening, and anything else they could think of. When I was a kid, they kept me in a cupboard under the stairs, but it was fine. Things did not get worst until I’ve started Hogwarts. I was branded a ‘freak’ by them, so the chores became harder, the punishments harsher. There were days where I didn’t eat or drink anything, but I’ve toughed it out because I could have always escaped to Hogwarts, where I was treated with dignity, respect, like an actual person. Dudley… the older he got, the more physical he got with me. What started with a slap, or a punch quickly became beatings. I was defenseless, they’ve locked my stuff in the cupboard and I couldn’t even get my textbooks out without being threatened to miss a meal.

“After fourth year… Dudley found out I’m gay. He didn’t tell my aunt and uncle, I don’t want to think about what would happen if he did so, but after that the beatings gotten worse, punches he seemed to have pulled back before now hit me with his full strength. When we were alone he forced me to walk around naked, calling me ‘Dog’ or ‘Mutt’ as he beat me. There were several times where I was forced to hang from his closet all night naked and bloody. But still my aunt and uncle didn’t notice a thing, or if they did, they simply didn’t care. But I still got through it, because there was always Hogwarts, there was always here, the Wizarding Community, my home. I was always welcomed here. … At least I thought I was.

“Thinking about it, I’m surprised Dumbledore didn’t notice the beatings, Dudley does a thorough job each time. Maybe he did, but never said anything, I don’t care. I’m not mad at him because of that. I’m mad because all my life I’ve never had a place where I belonged until Hogwarts. Now I’ve learned that the Wizarding community hates people like me more than the muggles, killing babies and passing laws against us… I feel betrayed. Betrayed, and—and, over and… I’m done. I’m just done. I want a place to belong, and if going against Dumbledore and the Ministry is the only way to do this… I’ll do it.”

Harry felt exhausted as he finished his little speech. He stood there waiting, watching the Dark Lord apprehensively as Voldemort considered his words. The silence in the room filled the void between them, minutes crawling by at a slow pace as every second felt like Harry’s last. Voldemort did not look at him at all, instead, his eyes were focused on his wand that he kept between his fingertips. Suddenly, the man stood up and walked towards the desk.

Silently he opened a drawer and pulled out another wand. It smaller than Voldemort’s wand, with a similar look. “Cherry wood, eight inches with the core of a dragon’s heartstring,” Voldemort said. “The man who owned this wand was the same man I’ve told you earlier today. He was the strongest dueler I’ve ever met, and the only one who was able to get under my skin.” There was a weird, sad-looking movement with Voldemort’s mouth that did not match his face. It made him look even more hideous in Harry’s opinion. “His name,” Voldemort continued, “was Adrian. And he, Harry, was my husband.”

“Your husband?” Harry asked, shocked.

“Yes. He had a fascination of the Dark Arts that drawn me towards him. He fully understood my ideals and embraced them,” Voldemort explained, placing the wand on the desk. “It was not Dumbledore who killed him, but he had a helping hand.”

“How… how did he die?” Harry asked softly.

“Execution,” Voldemort said. “Dumbledore pushed the Ministry of Magic to give their only execution. They covered it, of course, but I know the truth. We were supposed to rule the world together, but now I must have my revenge, and rule alone.”

Harry frowned, not knowing how to respond. Voldemort sighed, and shook his head. “That is all I will share for now. Harry, I’ve decided I will not kill you. Instead, I will teach you.”

“Teach me?”

“Yes, there are many spells and many objects the Ministry of Magic outlawed. During the summer, I will teach you all I can so you are better to reach your goal,” Voldemort said.

“Err… I’m only staying here a month,” Harry admitted. “Dumbledore will be back at the Dursleys to ‘collect’ me at that time.”

“Then, I shall teach you all I can in a month,” Voldemort said. “Those muggle relatives of your worry me. It would be easier to kill them and be done with it, but I’m afraid that would cause only more suspicion on you. So the first spell I will teach you will be the Memory Charm, _Obliviate_.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said. A smirk came across Voldemort’s face. “If only Dumbledore could see his precious Chosen One calling me ‘sir.’ That is all for tonight Harry, go tell Malfoy and Zabini of our arrangements.”

Harry nodded and turned to leave. Once he was out of the office, he felt a weight he didn’t know he had being lifted from his shoulders. Instead of feeling sadden or a strange melancholy for realizing he is now working with his parents’ murderer, he felt happy, relief that he is still living, and joyous that he can still be with Draco and Blaise. He quickly made his way up the stairs, and returned into his sanctuary. As soon as he entered the room, he was assaulted by Draco’s arms, the Slytherin holding him tightly. Harry welcomed the embraced and rested in it, letting Draco baby him as the two moved towards the bed.

Blaise was already sitting on it, and moved to make room for the two. He didn’t hug Harry like Draco did, instead just wrapping an arm around Harry, his hand rubbing Harry’s side soothingly. Harry at home between his two protectors, told them about his meeting with Voldemort from his story, to Voldemort’s husband, and his promise to teach him.

“I knew you’ll be already Harry,” Blaise smiled.

Harry nodded and held back a yawn. “Yeah… I was scared, really scared, but as soon as I stepped out of the office I felt very happy.”

“Why Harry?”

Harry blushed and looked down, “Because… now I don’t have to leave you guys.”

“Leave us?” Draco smirked. “You actually thought you could leave us Harry? You’re stuck with us forever Harry.”

“Yeah,” Blaise smirked. “You’re our Baby now. Like Draco said, you’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

“We have so many things we want to teach you Harry,” Draco continued. “So many things I’ve always wanted to show you… and now we have a whole month together!”

“Yeah…” Harry said, smiling to himself. “A whole month, I think I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” Draco said. He looked out the window and frowned. They had all have a busy day today. “I think we should head to bed early tonight, it’s been rather busy.”

“You’re right,” Blaise yawned. He looked at the two of them and asked, “So Draco, where are you going to sleep?”

“I’ll just sleep in another room—“

“No!” Harry blushed. “I’m used to sleeping with someone else. It’s weird being alone, so.. err…that is if you want to…”

Draco chuckled and said, “Of course we’ll sleep in the same room. Just the two of us.”

“Three,” Blaise chimed in. “I’m not trusting you to Baby all by yourself. He looked around and said, “Your room’s easily big enough to fit another bed.” He pointed his wand at the empty table and Transfigured it into a comfortable twin-size bed. He looked at Harry and said, “I’ll be back, just getting my pajamas, okay?”

“I don’t need to be surrounded twenty four seven Blaise,” Harry said a bit annoyed, but he smiled. “I just don’t want to be left alone.”

“And you’ll never be alone Harry,” Draco promised. Blaise left and Draco gave Harry the privacy he needed to change. Harry did so, and climbed into the side of Draco’s bed he woke up earlier that day in. Draco changed, only putting on a pair of pajama bottoms, and Blaise walked in wearing the same. Harry blushed when he looked at both of them.

“Sorry Harry, we’re not much for modesty after sleeping in the same house for ten years,” Blaise chuckled.

“It’s fine,” Harry blushed. He turned to his side, taking off his glasses as the fire in the fireplace extinguished with a wave of Draco’s wand, as well as the oil lamps. In the darkness Harry found comfort under the heavy sheets of Draco’s bed. He felt movement next to him, and turned to see Draco laying on his side, his back to him as he fell asleep. Harry smiled, staring at the darkened, blurred image of Draco’s back. He moved closer to Draco but stopped before he touched him. Comfortable being able to smell the boy in front of him.

Surrounded by Draco’s seductive aroma, Harry finally closed his eyes, and for the first time in years, slept a peaceful, relaxing, sleep.


	4. Lessons

Chapter IV

Lessons

Harry learned that Voldemort wanted to start lessons immediately. After having breakfast with Blaise and Draco in their room, a Death Eater knocked on Draco’s door. It was the same Death Eater that forced Harry from the gardens the day before, and he was shaking with fear as he told Harry the Dark Lord wants him. The three just nodded and Harry felt a strange calmness fall on his as he followed the quivering Death Eater, who seemed to be forcing himself quiet. For once the Manor has been alive with activity, Death Eaters patrolling the hallways and talking with one another. Each time Harry passed them he heard jeers and caught strange looks, the minions believing that Harry was being brought in to die.

The silent Death Eater said nothing as again Harry found himself in front of the office door. He knocked, and entered to find Voldemort in the same chair as he was last time near the fireplace. “Ahh, Harry, there you are,” Voldemort smirked. He looked at the Death Eater and told him to come in as well. “He will be our test subject for today,” Voldemort said.

The Death Eater’s fear seemed to escalate, the man’s face being paler than Voldemort’s skin as he stared at his Lord in horror. Voldemort smirked at the fear and turned his attention to Harry, amused to find the boy wasn’t scared. “I trust you remember what spell we are learning today?” Voldemort smirked.

Harry nodded. “The Memory Charm,” he said.

“Good,” Voldemort nodded. “Now Potter, tell me what do you know about it?”

Harry thought for a bit, before remembering, “In my second year, Gilderoy Lockhart tried to use it on Ron and me in the Chamber of Secrets. He’s been using the spell on wizards who did extraordinary things, and taking the credit for them.”

Voldemort’s face remained neutral at Harry’s mention of the Chamber. Instead he said, “Yes, the Memory Charm simply erases the memories of the individual. It should be simple enough for you Potter. Especially since, as you said, Gilderoy Lockhart was able to cast it.”

“Is it temporary?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“No, the memory is erased permanently. The only way to break the memory charm is by torture,” Voldemort said, a cold sadistic smile appearing on his face. “Which you will do at the end of this month.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. Voldemort gave a cruel chuckle and got up from his chair.

“I mean, Potter, is that I have a Death Eater with vital information that I have blocked with a Memory Charm,” Voldemort explained. “Your task is to retrieve it, or else face punishment.”

“… I’m guessing the punishment is death?” Harry said, surprised his voice isn’t quivering.

“No, why would I want to kill you now that you’ve become interesting?” Voldemort smirked. “The punishment, Harry, is that your little secret will be revealed to the Wizarding World, and I will sit back and watch them tear their hero apart.”

Harry stared at Voldemort, not surprised by his cruelty, but surprised that he didn’t feel fear. He wasn’t scared, apprehensive, or even nauseous at the suggestion of torture. Instead, he felt a curiosity that he had always felt since the ending of their first meeting. “Alright,” Harry said, meeting Voldemort’s eyes. “Deal, but one condition.”

“Oh? And what is that Harry?”

“Tell me about Adrian,” Harry demanded. “Every day, at the end of the lessons, if I make no mistakes you will tell me about Adrian.”

Anger swept through Voldemort’s eyes before disappearing. “Very well. You want to learn about my husband? First, make sure this one here does not remember our conversation,” Voldemort said, pointing at the Death Eater.

Harry nodded and turned to face the Death Eater, who’s face now held confusion, as well as fear. Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the Death Eater.

“Now, Potter, the Memory Charm is easy to perform, but the danger is that you must be precise about which memory you want to erase. Otherwise, you risk causing permanent brain damage, and I will lose a Death Eater. Focus on the precise memory you want to erase, point your wand at the target, and say _Obliviate_. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

“Then do it Potter,” Voldemort said.

Harry turned his attention towards the Death Eater and focused all of his attention on the conversation the Death Eater heard. Harry tried and decided on a starting point, it would be odd if the Death Eater could only remember a small part of what Harry and Voldemort were talking about. Harry wondered if he should erase the entire meeting from the Death Eater’s mind, and considered that the safest solution. With his wand pointed at the Death Eater and his mind focused on the moment they’ve entered the office, Harry muttered “ _Obliviate!_ ”

A soft green haze emitted from Harry’s wand and surrounded the Death Eater’s head. It seemed to seep into the Death Eater, being absorbed by his skin and hair as the Death Eater’s vision became cloudy. Soon the soft green haze fully disappeared, and the Death Eater’s eyes were misty, a look of confusion appearing before he returned to normal. He looked at the Dark Lord, looked at Harry, who’s wand was already back in his pocket, and said, “Here he is my Lord, just as you asked.”

Voldemort smirked at Harry and said, “Perfect Potter, there is hope for you yet.” He waved dismissively at the man. When it was just the two of them, Voldemort returned to his seat. Using his own wand, he produced a second identical, although smaller, armchair and motioned for Harry to sit down. As Harry did so, Voldemort looked at him. “Adrian, he was my husband as I told you last time,” Voldemort began. “His full name was Adrian Balks. He was a half-blood, his mother died when he was five and his father worked with Dark Objects. A collector, if you will. We first met on our first day at Hogwarts, I did not like him.”

 

The small Tom Riddle looked around inquisitively at the stone castle that surrounded him. The portraits were talking, the people inside moving from each other’s frames as they welcomed the eleven year olds into Hogwarts. There were ghosts as well! Gliding through the walls and over the small first years who were wearing black pointed hats. Around him, students were talking to each other, whispering and pointing as they followed the man who introduced himself to Riddle earlier as Albus Dumbledore.

In front of Tom, he noticed, was a small boy who looked around with a happy curiosity. As if he felt Riddle’s stares, the small boy turned around and looked at him with dull blue eyes. “Are you a Muggle-born?” the boy asked happily, pointing to the second-hand robes Tom was forced to buy.

“Excuse me?” Tom sneered. The boy shrugged and said, “It’s just a question,” turning around.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and looked around at the small crowd of First years as they gathered around a pair of tall, wooden doors. He smiled and said, “I wish to be the first to welcome you all to Hogwarts. I am sure that you all had an excellent ride across the lake, which we all must thank our groundkeeper, Ogg, for. Now, beyond these doors you will all join your fellow students for a delightful feast. However, before that, you all must be sorted into one of our four Houses. There is Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. Now, I must warn you your actions during the school year will reflect on your House. If you triumph and succeed, which I am sure you all will do, you will gain points for your houses. However, rule-breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year, all house points will be tallied up, and the House with the most points will win the House Cup! Now, if you all could line up in two lines? We can proceed.”

The hall was filled with the shuffling of many pairs of feet as the mob of children slowly formed into two lines. Tom stayed silent during the entire endeavor, only moving slightly to blend into the line. Much to his irk, however, it seems that the same small boy had a similar idea and was still in front of him.

Dumbledore smiled at the First Years and said, “Excellent, now, let us begin. …” He turned and pushed both doors open, the entrance of the Great Hall revealing Tom to the rest of Hogwart’s body.

The two lines of First Years were escorted between the two long middle tables of four, the students having either blue or yellow trimmings on their robes, as well as their Houses badges. The small boy in front of him looked around with a strange excitement, the dull blue eyes always moving before looking back at Tom. He asked Tom a question, but he ignored the child as they’ve reached the edge of the tables. The line stopped as all the students in the Great Hall, and the staff sitting in the table in front of them turned their focus to a small ratty hat that sat on top of a stool. The small boy in front of Tom had to jump repeatedly to see it.

“Do you want me to get you a wooden crate to stand on?” Tom couldn’t just but sneer as he watched the kid.

The kid stopped jumping, turned to face Tom, and said, “No thanks, I don’t need your home Muggle-born.”

Anger rose in Tom at the mention of being a Muggle-born. There was no way he was that, he will not believe it. He had no time to act on his anger, however, as the hat seemed to bounce into life, the stitching around the brim tearing forming a mouth. Then, the most ludicrous thing happened. The hat began to sing. Tom just stared in stupefied awe as the hat sung, wishing that it would hurry up with it. Fortunately for Riddle, the son the Hat sung was short and soon the hall erupted in applause.

Dumbledore, still clapping, walked up to the hat and pulled out a scroll of parchment paper. He unrolled it, and held it by the top with one hand as he picked up the hat with the other. “When I call your name, kindly step up to the stool, sit down, and I will place the Sorting Hat onto your head. Now then… Avery, Malcolm.” A blond-haired boy disconnected from the two lines and made his way to the three-legged stool.

He sat down, and Tom watched as Avery sat down on the stool and Dumbledore placed the hat on top of him. The hall was silent for a couple of seconds before the hat yelling out, “SLYTHERIN!”

The table farthest left of Tom clapped as their newest member went to join them. Tom looked towards the staff table and saw an enormous man with a gingerly blond walrus mustache clapping as well, a smile showing from underneath his mustache. After that, Tom didn’t pay particular attention to the names called out until Dumbledore said, “Balk, Adrian!”

“That’s me Muggle-born!” the small boy said to Tom before sauntering towards the stool. Tom chuckled to himself as the small boy took a couple of tries getting on the stool because of his height. Dumbledore chuckled as well as he placed the Sorting Hat onto the boy’s head, engulfing it completely. Unlike Avery’s, the hat was quiet for a full minute before announcing, “SLYTHERIN!”

The boy smiled with his results, jumped off of the stool, and walked calmly to Slytherin table, waving at some of the higher years. He sat down, and Tom couldn’t help but notice that for the rest of the sorting, the boy kept staring at him, those dull blue eyes drilling into Tom’s whole soul. It annoyed him.

The list went on, and the group of unsorted First Years become smaller and smaller as Tom waited for his name. During the entire time, the boy, Adrian Balk, kept staring at Tom, watching his every move as Tom waited between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Finally, Dumbledore looked at the scroll of parchment and said, “Riddle, Tom!”

Tom was the final student waiting. The Great Hall watched as he calmly made his way towards the sorting hat. Dumbledore offered him a smile and said softly, “I am happy to see you here Tom.”

He didn’t respond. Tom just sat calmly on the three-legged stool and stared out at the four tables, not feeling anything at all as the students stared at him. Dumbledore lowered the Sorting Hat on Tom, and he barely felt the hat brush with his short hair before it yelled, “SLYTHERIN!”

Tom smirked as he slid off of the stool and made his way towards the Slytherin Table. The boy was clapping with the rest of the table as he made room for Tom. Tom sat down. “Hello Muggle-born,” Adrian Balk smirked.

Tom just looked at him and said, “Just so you know dwarf, I am not a muggle-born.”

The small boy snickered and offered his hand. “I’m Adrian,” he said happily. “Adrian Balk. My dad’s the famous Dark Objects collector.”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Tom said, not taking Adrian’s hand or even looking at the small boy, “and I don’t care.”

The small boy laughed at that and said, “You know? I think I’m going to like you.”

 

After Harry’s lesson with Voldemort, and Voldemort’s story, he returned to Draco’s room where he saw Draco in front of the cauldron. He stepped up to him and said, “You’re really good at Potions, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” Draco nodded casually. “Get me the Ptolemy please? I need it for your potions tonight.”

“The what?” Harry said confused.

“The Ptolemy,” Draco repeated, pointing one hand at an open cabinet. “It’s in there. The red one.”

Still confused, Harry made his way to the cabinet and opened it up, seeing vials and vials of unmarked ingredients. Confused, Harry looked around, trying to find something, anything that matched Draco’s description of “The red one.” He found several vials with red liquids and just picked one at random and handed it to Draco, hoping he was right.

“Wrong Potter,” Draco said with a hint of annoyance. “This is bat’s blood. I need Ptolemy. Ptolemy. It’s the thinnest of the red ones. Just shake them until you see the red liquid splashes the most.”

Harry nodded, and tried again, taking each vial and shaking them lightly. It was the third one that seemed most water-like so he gave it to Draco. “There you go, this is Ptolemy. Thanks. Seriously Potter, how did you ever get by five years of Potions without know what Ptolemy is?”

“I’m just ruddy awful at Potions,” Harry said. “Not my fault Snape’s a horrible teacher.”

Draco only gave Harry a sharp, short look before saying, “I am going to ignore that comment, but this is ridiculous Harry. If you are going to be sleeping in my bed Harry, you’re going to have to know at least how to make a decent brew!”

Harry frowned, and looked around. “Where’s Blaise?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Shopping for clothes for you,” Draco said. “But don’t change the subject Harry. Here, look, do you see the potion shimmering?”

Harry stood next to Draco and looked into the potion to see a shimmering pale-blue liquid bubbling softly. “Yeah,” he said.

“That means I need to add the nettle. It is a plant with stinging hairs on their leaves. I want you to take two nettle leaves and mince them. You know cooking, you should know how to mince, right?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Harry said. Draco nodded and said, “Okay. They are on the second shelf in the cabinet Harry, third one from the center. You see it? It’s in a jar this time.”

Harry moved to the cabinet and quickly found the jar. “Yeah,” he said, putting it down.

“Good, take out two and mince them. Use the silver knife, it’s sharper and you’ll keep more liquid that way,” Draco instructed.

Harry did as he was told and took out two leaves, being careful with their stinging hairs, and placed them next to Draco on the preparation table. He picked up the silver knife and begun mincing them. Draco smiled watching Harry, and said, “That’s excellent Harry. Add them, quick!”

Harry did, and was surprised to see the light-blue color deepen to a darker blue. Draco chuckled at Harry’s astonishment and shook his head. “Okay Harry take the ladle, and constantly stir counter-clockwise until it turns a lilac color. It’ll become darker before it becomes lighter so don’t worry,” Draco said. Harry nodded, and unconsciously started his second lesson of the day.

As he stirred, Harry watched in amazement as the blue-colored potion slowly started becoming shades and shades darker, just as Draco said, before eventually becoming light again, starting as a deep, royal purple before lightening up. Draco watched with a look of approval as he gathered the rest of the ingredients he needed. They continued in this fashion, Draco holding total control of the potion as he instructs Harry step by step as both boys take turn looking over the potion, or preparing the ingredients. Harry was surprised at how… easy it seemed to be for him. After all, he had always had trouble with Potions, Snape had always made it a difficult, and unenjoyable subject for him. But learning from Draco, Harry found himself enjoying himself, enjoying the ease that it was following Draco’s directions and learning, actually learning! When they were done, Draco examined the potion and used a small silver ladle to gather a small amount of the potion. He smiled at the properties and gave the ladle to Harry.

“Drink this,” he said. “It’ll help with any sore or broken bones you might have.”

Harry did, and his cheeks flushed as a warm feeling spread all over him. “Thank you Draco,” he smiled.

“Not at all,” Draco said, his cheeks tinting at Harry’s smile. He took the ladle back and looked around. “You can relax as I finish this, there’s another potion that I need to make, but it’s easy—“

“Let me do it!” Harry said quickly. “Please, you’re loads better than Snape at teaching me at this.”

Draco looked shocked at first, staring at Harry with a confused look before nodding, smiling down at his lion. “Yeah, alright. We’re just making a simple fever potion. I don’t want you to develop a fever because of all the potions I’m making you drink.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded. And again, the two started the process of making the potion, Draco holding the same control he did the last one, telling Harry what to do and exactly how to do it. And with each command, Harry obeyed and learned, smiling at himself when he realized that maybe he could start recognizing the ingredients like Draco. Though, he knew that it would take him years to get to the level Draco is.

When they were done the two agreed to make it a daily thing. They relaxed against Draco’s bed, their bodies barely touching each other, only centimeters apart as the door opened and Blaise walked through, two bags floating after him. “Harry baby, you’re here,” Blaise said as he let the bags float into the room and falling gently on the bed. “We’ve looked at your clothes,” Blaise explained, “and honestly they were in an awful shape. So I’ve decided to get you clothes that more match you.”

Harry blushed as he turned his attention towards the two bags, pulling robes, dress robes and pants, button-down shirts, socks, underwear, and pants out of the bags. He looked at Blaise confused, “Why would you do this for me?” he asked. “This is only my second day here…”

“Think of it as a thank you present Harry,” Blaise said. “We’re both very grateful that you… well quite literally fell into our lives. We’ve known for a long time about the hateful laws against us, and well… Draco has been wanting to be your friend for so long that it rubbed off on me I guess.” Blaise offered a smile at Harry as he picked up a dark-green button-down shirt and held it against Harry. “Looks like I’ve gotten the size right,” he smiled.

Harry became overwhelmed with emotions. Nobody ever had devoted this much attention and gifts on Harry, and with such genuineness! He looked at the two of them and said, “Thank you… so much, for everything you guys done. I honestly don’t know how I can even start to repay you—“

“Just be yourself Harry,” Draco said softly, stepping close to him. Harry nodded and decided to hug the blond. “Thank you,” he whispered again. Draco smiled and returned the hug, giving a knowing smirk to Blaise.

They’ve lunched together, and decided to play Quidditch in the garden. Harry was glad that so far he didn’t encounter Lucius Malfoy again, nor saw any of the Death Eaters that he knew. He couldn’t even imagine what he would do when he run into Bellatrix Lestrange. The spells Voldemort taught him were not murderous, or harm-centered like Harry first thought. No, instead after Harry mastered the memory charm, Voldemort tasking Harry to cast the spell on five Death Eaters during the afternoon, they moved onto other, more advanced spells. After each lesson, Voldemort gave Harry a small piece of his past with the mysterious Adrian Balk, such as the fact that he hated the little wizard for all of their first year.

 

It was the second year of Hogwarts that Tom Riddle started to like Adrian. For most of their first year, Adrian had taken to call Tom “Muggle-Born,” which got them into many arguments and debates. It didn’t help that Adrian had taken the role of being Tom Riddle’s shadow, always following the boy and showing up when least expected. It annoyed Tom to no end, especially since each time, Adrian always held a superior air to Tom. That was, until, their second year.

It was October, and Tom was relaxing outside, glad to be away from everybody. There was a small noise, and Tom turned his head to see a slender, dark-green snake that almost camouflaged with the wet grass. Tom got to his knees, not caring about getting his school pants wet, and started to speak to the snake, just like all the snakes he found near the orphanage. “Hello,” he said.

The snake stopped in it’s tracks and looked up at Tom. “Hello,” it replied. “What is it that you want?”

“Nothing, just to talk,” Tom hissed, this type of magic coming naturally for him. “It has been forever since I’ve talked with a snake.”

“Oh? Why is that little human?” the snake asked.

“Because they always find me in the orphanage,” Tom said. The snake nod it’s head, listening closely. The two then started to have a light conversation, Tom mainly doing the talking as he charmed the snake. He sat there for a long time, relaxing as he explained his situation to the random snake. When he was done, the snake only looked past Tom’s shoulder and said, “Another, there’s another human. Much smaller this time.”

Tom whirled around to see Adrian standing a couple of feet from Tom. His cheeks were tinted as he, for the first time, stumbled over his words. “I-I’m sorry …Tom,” Adrian said, calling Tom by his name for the first time. “I should never—I mean I’ve never thought that you could—I’m sorry!”

“For what?” Tom asked confused. Yet, he felt satisfied seeing the annoying kid fumble and fall from his superiority.

“For calling you Muggle-born,” Adrian said. “No Muggle-Born could ever have done what you’ve done! It’s impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

“Talking with snakes Tom!” Adrian said excited, looking at Tom with a new look in his eyes. Was that admiration? Worship? “You know you don’t know what you are? What you’ve just done?”

“And what is that I’ve done?” Tom asked, getting to his feet. The snake he was conversing with continued along its way.

“Talking with a snake,” Adrian explained. “I’ve always wondered why you were in Slytherin, I mean, I’ve thought you were a Muggle-Born and there is no way a Muggle-Born would ever be a Slytherin! But now it all makes sense! You’re not a Muggle-Born at all! At most you’re a half-blood, which is so much better.”

“A what?”

“You can talk to snakes, you’re a Parseltongue,” Adrian said with an excited smile on his face, closing the distance between the two second years. “Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue as well, in fact there’s talk that he might be the first one! Only his family has the ability and, well, you have it so that only means one thing.”

A knowing smirk appeared on Tom’s face as he connected the two together. But he wanted to hear it from Adrian. He wanted Balk to get off his high-horse voluntarily and kneel before him. “Which is?” he asked.

“You are a descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin, Tom Riddle. You are the Heir to Slytherin,” Adrian said. “That is why I’m sorry! For everything I’ve said last year, calling you a Muggle-born all these times. Can you… can you forgive me?”

Tom looked down at Adrian, smiling as the last air of superiority left the small boy, and instead went to Tom, where it rightfully belonged. “Beg,” Tom commanded. “Bow down and beg for my forgiveness.”

Adrian looked at Tom shocked only for a moment before getting on his knees. He bowed, his head and hands touching the wet ground as he said, “Tom Riddle, Heir of Slytherin, can you please forgive me for everything I’ve done? And can you please let me continue follow you in your shadows?”

Tom looked down at the bowing figure of Adrian Balk and smiled. This felt right, having someone bowing down to him. Tom liked the feeling of power and control it gave him, and he wanted more, he wanted more people to follow him, to bow before him. But, strangely, not Adrian. The boy has been following him from the beginning, and his knowledge intrigued Tom. He had to admit that he could learn much from Adrian, about his ability, and even about Slytherin if he was honest with himself. It doesn’t help that, despite his annoyance, the kid was cute. Very cute. A cuteness that the boy knew he had and used it every chance he had. There was a reason, Tom realized, why Adrian Balk was in Slytherin.

With his mind made up, Tom began to chuckle. “Get up, you’re forgiven,” he said. Adrian looked at him happily as he scrambled to his feet. Tom closed their distance, and decided to make the boy his. “You want to follow me? Very well. You can follow me, but never in my shadow. You will be beside me, and you’ll tell me everything you know. For now, my ability has to be a secret, okay? I’m trusting you with this Adrian. Do you understand?”

“Yes! Yeah, I do Tom!” Adrian smiled. Tom grimaced at his name. “What’s the matter?” Adrian asked.

“I hate my first name,” Tom admitted. “It’s so… common. There are many ‘Toms.’”

“Then, what should I call you?” Adrian asked innocently. Tom looked down at him and thought for a moment.

“My middle name,” Tom said, placing his hand on Adrian. “You, and you alone, will call me by my middle name, Marvolo. Okay?”

“Yes! I can do that,” Adrian said excitedly. “Thank you Marvolo, I truly am sorry for how I behave towards you. Dad would give me a beating if he heard I’ve been rude to a Parseltongue.”

“It’s alright,” Tom said. “And why is that? Are Parseltongues rare?”

Adrian nodded. “Yeah, like I said, only those descendants of Slytherin can speak Parseltongue. It’s a show of royalty to some people. I bet, if the rest of the Slytherins knew you could speak to snakes, they’d follow you in a heartbeat.”

“Interesting,” Tom said. “But for now, I want it to be our secret. Until I know more about it.”

“Okay Marvolo,” Adrian nodded. And the two walked back to the castle, their relationship blossoming anew.


	5. Weeks Past

Chapter V

Weeks Past

Tom Riddle’s Third year was uneventful for the most part. It was strange for Riddle. To the professors and all the students around him, he was able to show the façade of the peaceful, polite student. He never argued with the professors, he’d achieve perfect scores in all of his subjects, and he was starting to amass a small group of followers he called his “friends.” Despite all that, however, there was one person who always seemed to be able to look past everything Tom had shown the public. Adrian Balk. This small Slytherin, no matter what Tom had shown or said, always saw the truth. The boy was trusting and kept to his word, telling Tom about his ability as a Parselmouth.

Because of its heredity feature, both he and Adrian started looking into Tom’s family history, searching the trophy rooms and records for any information of Tom’s father, who he thought was a wizard, and his mother the muggle. They couldn’t find anything, and enraged, Tom decided to abandon his name. He made his friends call him “Lord Voldemort.” But never Adrian. To Adrian, he was always Marvolo.

“Hey, Marvolo, you’re bored. Aren’t you?” Adrian stated. They were in the Slytherin common room, both hunched over a Herbology essay for Professor Herbert Beery.

Tom looked up from his essay, his handsome face showing no clear emotions as he responded, “What do you mean by that? Of course I am bored. It’s a beautiful day, and we are stuck here doing Professor Beery’s essay.”

Adrian chuckled and shook his head. “Not that Marvolo, I mean you’re bored in general. Of what they’re teaching us here. It’s not enough for you.”

“What do you mean?” Tom frowned.

Adrian gave a sly smile and looked around, as if making sure they weren’t being overheard. He leaned closer to Tom and said, “I told you what my father does. He is a collector of Dark Artifacts and Objects. To the Ministry, he does this to categorize them, to ‘make sure that they don’t get in the wrong hands’ so to speak. But really, my father studies them, studies the Dark Arts, and whatever he learns, he shows me.”

“The Dark Arts?” Tom said, interested.

Adrian nodded. “Yeah, magic and spells the Ministry deems ‘too dangerous’ or simple ‘not right.’ They are powerful spells that could bind men to your will, make them suffer immeasurable pain… there is even a spell that can kill.”

For once, Tom showed open excitement. He leaned forward, meeting Adrian, and said, “Powerful spells like this? Why aren’t they taught?”

“Muggles,” Adrian said with a sneer. “Because of Muggles, and those filthy Muggleborns. They are scared of true magic, so we are forced to censor ourselves for those weak things.”

Tom developed a similar sneer. During his first two years he was always stand-offish towards the Muggleborns. They seemed… lesser to him, especially now that he learned he was a descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin. But to think that they were the reason to hold back magic! A new hatred began to grow within him.

“What is he studying now?” Tom asked. Adrian smiled and slid closer to Tom. “He gave me this… it’s perfect to spy on your enemies.”

Adrian’s small hand went into his pockets and pulled out a glass eye, his dull blue eyes shining with pride. “With a tap of your wand, the eye will move on its own, and whatever it sees, you see,” Adrian said.

“Interesting… but wouldn’t they see it?” Tom asked, taking the glass eye from Adrian, their hands brushing.

Adrian smiled and shook his head lightly, “No, with a touch of your wand, it can turn invisible to everyone but you. Then, with another touch, it becomes visible again.” Then, with the glass eye still on Tom’s hand, Adrian pulled out his wand and tapped it.

Instantly the eye vanished, Tom only able to see his hand. Yet, he could still feel the weight of the eye as it rolled around in his hand. Adrian giggled and said, “That’s ticklish!” Tom turned to see he had one eye closed. His finger pointed to his open eye and said, “I can see you.”

Tom was amazed at this. He didn’t think magic like this existed. Tom watched in amazement as Adrian took his wand and again tapped the glass eye, the object appearing again in Tom’s hand. Tom looked at Adrian and said, “This is amazing Adrian! What else is there?”

Adrian smiled with a small blush. “I know your secret… but I want you to know mine, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Tom demanded.

“There’s a spell… well it happens naturally, but the spell used to help,” Adrian said. “Long ago, before the Ministry began and before Muggleborns invaded our community… two wizards were able to conceive a baby together.”

“Two wizards… are able to do that?” Tom asked, more intrigued than anything.

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded. “But… because Muggles think that two wizards being together like that is… unnatural, they’ve forced their views upon us. If… if they knew that I was… that I like boys… I’m sure they would kill me.”

“Kill you? Like I would allow that!” Tom said suddenly, showing a rare emotion that only Adrian is allowed to see. “Don’t you remember what I told you to do?”

“Yeah, to stand by your side, Marvolo,” Adrian said, biting his lip lightly.

Tom nodded. He gave Adrian back the glass eye, and clasped his hand over Adrian’s. “Yes, by my side. Together, we are going to make each other powerful.”

 

“Did you knew?” Harry asked. He was sitting in the smaller armchair across from Voldemort. They have just finished Harry’s tenth lesson with the Dark Lord, and Harry was finding himself at ease with the man, at ease with the manor.

“Did I knew that I was in love with the small boy?” Voldemort asked. “At the time, no. I did not believe in love back then. At least, not the love that Dumbledore kept prattling on about.”

“So when did you realize… that you loved Adrian?” Harry asked.

Voldemort thought for a moment. Harry let his mentor gather his thoughts, his eyes falling on his own wand as he realized he’d been twirling it between his fingers. He stopped, and looked at his teacher as he began speaking again. “Fourth year, our friendship grew closer,” Voldemort said. “To the school and staff, I have had my ‘friends’ with the first Death Eaters. Avery, Lestrange, Rosier, Mulciber, and Dolohov. But Adrian… he was my only friend, my true friend. He was the one where my feelings actually mattered. We started studying the Dark Arts together, learning much from his father and books we can find. And what I’ve learned, I practice at the orphanage. It was in fifth year, when everything changed.”

 

It was around the end of January that Tom found it. He entered the Slytherin common room late at night, and stood over the sleeping form of Adrian. He looked at their dorm mates before gently nudging Adrian awake. “Come with me,” he commanded.

“Marvolo?” Adrian whispered, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “What’s going on?”

“My heritage,” Tom said. Adrian obeyed and got out of bed immediately, putting his slippers on. He followed his prefect out of the fifth year dormitory and into the Slytherin common room. There was a lit lantern waiting on a table, and Riddle took it with them as the pair exited into the dungeons. “Be quiet, and don’t ask questions until we arrive,” Tom commanded.

Adrian nodded and silently, they crept through the dungeons, Adrian knowing that the only threat they had was Dumbledore, the only teacher who seemed to know of Tom’s lies. Luckily it seems the Transfiguration professor wasn’t in the dungeon, so they easily walked up the stairs and into the entrance hall. Adrian followed Tom to the Grand Staircase and wondered briefly where they were heading towards. They climbed the stairs until they’ve reached the second floor and turned a corner, and ran into the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle.

Pringle held in his hands a whip and lantern as he growled at Adrian. “Balk! Student out of bed! That’s ten lickings boy.”

“Mr. Pringle, if I may,” Tom said smoothly, speaking a bit loudly so the caretaker’s attention turn from the small boy to him. The man’s face changed completely, angry lines smoothing out as he said, “Riddle. What you doing here out of bed?”

“I’m on patrol tonight,” Tom lied easily, giving a practiced, focused smile. “I didn’t want to get bored, so Adrian offered to keep me company tonight.”

“Oh… he did, huh?” Pringle said, giving Adrian a sharp look. Adrian nodded, his face showing no emotions. Pringle nodded to himself, “Yes, yes… I see. Very well then Riddle, Balk.” And with that, the caretaker turned and left them alone, turning a corridor and disappearing from view.

Tom waited five minutes before looking down at Adrian. “We are almost there, stay quiet,” he said. Adrian obeyed and the two continued down the corridor, the lantern held high in front of Tom as they went deeper into the second floor corridors. They’ve turned many corners, Adrian looking out the windows when he had the chance, seeing the full moon shining moonlight into the windows.

Tom stopped suddenly, and Adrian looked up at him. “In here,” Tom said, opening the door to the girl’s lavatory. Adrian didn’t question as he walked into the bathroom, Tom following him. His crush locked the door behind them and placed the lantern onto one of the sinks. Tom took out his wand, and made the fire in the lantern dance before opening the glass latch, having the flame gently move from the lantern and towards the torches on the wall.

As the bathroom light up, Adrian’s attention turned towards the sinks in the center of the circular room, all of them placed next to one another forming a circle of their own. After all the torches were lit, Tom blew the flame out and smiled at Adrian. Adrian shared the smile, blushing softly. “Thank you for not asking questions,” Tom said.

“You told me not to,” Adrian said. “You say, we obey. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“For the rest of them, yes, but not for you Adrian,” Tom said, stepping closer to the small boy. “I expect them to follow what I say, but you Adrian… you get to choose.”

“What can I say? I like you,” Adrian said, hiding the true meaning of his words. Tom smirked and said, “I like you as well Adrian. Now, please be quiet for a moment, and just watch.”

Adrian nodded and watched as his Marvolo walked towards the circle of sinks. He circled them until he stopped in front of a certain sink, and then he started to speak in the language that Adrian always loved to hear. He had dreams of that language, of Marvolo whispering to him in that language, commanding him, touching him…

The sinks started to move, sinking into the stone floor below, leaving a large pipe big enough for a man to slide into. Tom smiled at Adrian and beckoned him to come. Adrian made his way towards Tom and looked down the large pipe. “We just slide down?” he asked.

“Yes,” Tom nodded. “I will go first.” Adrian agreed and stepped back as he watched his crush disappear in the darkness of the pipe. He waited only two minutes until he heard Tom’s echoed voice again, “It’s safe Adrian! Slide down!”

Adrian took a step into the large pipe and disappeared in the darkness as well. It was a rush, his body was going so face it felt like his face was being push aside, forcing his perfectly kept jet black hair into disarray. Before he knew it, the cold metallic feeling of the pipe left him, only to be replaced by dried, moldy bones. “Disgusting,” he groaned, trying his best to keep his slippers on as he climbed to his feet.

“Need help dwarf?” Tom chuckled as he offered a hand.

“Shut up,” Adrian smiled, grabbing Tom’s hand. They were truly alone, and Adrian was happy for now Tom could be his true self. He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Where are we?” he asked, noticing that they were standing on a pile of animal bones.

“The Chamber of Secrets, my heirloom as the Heir of Slytherin,” Tom said. “All of this is mine through my mother. I have Slytherin’s great gift because of her, and now we can finish his mission.”

“Slytherin’s mission?” Adrian asked.

Tom nodded. “There are those unworthy to learn magic roaming Hogwart’s halls. We all hate them, Salazar Slytherin especially hated them. He built this Chamber to house a weapon to purify Hogwarts.”

“What is it?” Adrian asked, never letting go of Tom’s hand.

Tom smirked and said, “You’ll see little one. Come on, it should be this way.” He pointed down another large pathway, this one having a stone pathway to lead them. Adrian nodded and they’ve begun walking down the pathway, Adrian looking around.

“How did you find out about this place?” He asked.

“Through several books,” Tom said. “I had to trace my lineage through my mother’s line, and finally, just at the end of Christmas break, I’ve found out that I’m directly related to Salazar Slytherin. It’s like you said, only those descendant from Slytherin can be a Parselmouth, and I, I am Slytherin’s Heir. I am the only one who can control whatever lies inside.”

“The weapon,” Adrian said slowly.

“Yes,” Tom nodded. They’ve continued walking, and soon stopped in front of a stone door. The door had two carved snakes interlocking, with each other, acting like a lock.

“Guessing you know the password, Marvolo?” Adrian smirked. “Is it speak ‘friend’ and enter?”

Tom chuckled and turned his attention to the doors. His focus on the stone snakes, he spoke again in Parseltongue, Adrian feeling the pleasant tingle over his skin as he listened to the language. The stone snakes rumbled into life and soon slithered away from each other, untangling from their twists and rolling into two perfect coiled circles. Tom just looked amused at Adrian’s expression as he pushed open the door. “After you,” he said.

Adrian couldn’t help but blush a little as he stepped in front of Tom. His Riddle followed him, the doors closing behind. They were standing at the end of a long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more serpents, rose to a ceiling lost to darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish glow that filled the place. They’ve begun to walk, Adrian’s eyes shifting towards every shadow, looking for the weapon as Tom walked straight on, his eyes focused towards the end of the chamber. Torches hidden behind the statues gave them light, their green flames giving the room an odd feeling.

Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard’s sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor.

“Salazar Slytherin,” Adrian said in wonderment. “To think that he would make a statue of himself. …”

“Bit egocentric,” Tom sneered. “But it’s what inside what I’m after.”

Adrian watched Tom as he stepped towards the statue, his arm outstretched. Again, Adrian heard Tom speak Parseltongue, and then something amazing happened. The statue’s mouth opened, the jaw descending until Adrian was sure the hole was as large as the pipe they’ve slid down. Adrian couldn’t see into the hole, but he heard something deep inside. A strange, low sound came from deep within the tunnel, and Adrian stood fix in place as he heard the sound of something very large moving within.

“Do not meet its eyes,” Tom told Adrian, who was surprised at the warning. He watched as a giant snake slither out of the statue’s mouth, its scales a poisonous green. Adrian took an automatic step back as he realized what exactly the snake that now stood in front of them is. “Marvolo, it’s a—it’s a Basilisk!” Adrian said. He felt fear, excitement, amazement, wonder, and anxiety all at once as he stared at the large wide body, careful to avoid the snake’s eyes.

“Yes, it is,” Tom Riddle said, looking briefly at the small Slytherin before turning his attention towards the basilisk. Adrian watched as Tom, his hand still outstretched towards the Basilisk, started speaking in Parseltongue again. Adrian closed his eyes and smiled as he allowed the sound of Tom’s Parseltongue to surround him, enwrapping the Slytherin in a dark tongue, pulling him deeper and deeper into a morbidly erotic fantasy.

Tom finished speaking, yet Adrian kept his eyes closes his mind still in that fantasy as the heavy, slow slithering sound of the basilisk surround him instead. Adrian wasn’t tempted to move, or open his eyes. He was with Marvolo. Marvolo keeps him safe. He heard a keep chuckling, and felt a hand on his cheek. “Open them,” Marvolo commanded.

Adrian’s eyes opened, revealing his dull blue eyes to Riddle. “He’s gone,” Marvolo said. “He is out there, doing our will… purifying the school.”

“Marvolo…” Adrian said, noticing finally how close they were. Marvolo chuckled, his thumb caressing the small boy’s cheek gently as he hissed.

“What—“

“I said ‘Kiss me,’” he translated. He said it again in Parseltongue, and their bodies met for the first time. Adrian was in an erotic bliss, their bodies tangled in a sweaty mess as they consummated their new relationship. Finally, Marvolo was his. After years of longing, years of pinning and planning, Marvolo was his. And as their voices united in bliss in that chamber, Adrian vowed never to let go.

 

“You’re wrong,” Harry stated, looking at his mentor shocked. “Muggleborns, Muggles, they aren’t the problem!”

“Of course they are,” Voldemort said easily. “Muggleborns invaded our community with their savage, archaic ideals and Muggles are simply beasts with little power. They are both beneath us Harry, the sooner you learn that, the better.”

“I don’t believe that,” Harry said, meeting Voldemort’s gaze. “I am not against muggles, and definitely not against Muggleborns. My best friend is Muggleborn, and I just want to leave the Muggles be. They won’t do anything troublesome the less they know about us.”

Voldemort gave a cold laugh, “You naive boy. Leave the muggles alone? Why should we? We are the more powerful class Harry. And Muggleborns just show those muggles invading our class. They need to be shown their true place.”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “You’re wrong. I am here to go against Dumbledore. Dumbledore made the laws pass, and he and his followers are enforcing them. I don’t care about anything else. I just want to get those laws repelled.”

“You can’t do that,” Voldemort said slowly, “without focusing on the muggle issues. They are both deeply connected. If you truly want those laws changed, we need to have a complete takeover.”

Harry sighed, and looked down at his wand. “I don’t know… I still don’t think they’re that connected at all. I’ve lived in the muggle world, and yes there are still horrible people there, but it changed. Why not just keep to taking over the Wizarding World and keep the muggles out of it?”

“Think on it Harry, and you will realize why I—we need to conquer both,” Voldemort said.

“Yes sir,” Harry sighed. He looked at the two cats in the room. After learning basic and advance spells, Voldemort decided it was time to delve into the Unforgivable Curses. Today, they’ve done the Imperious Curse. Harry forced his cat to simply run around the office, jumping from desk to desk, flinching whenever it missed it’s jumps. “What are you going to do with them?” he asked.

“I found them outside, so I’ll return them outside,” Voldemort said simply. “They’ll then go straight back to where they belong. You actually think me heartless enough to kill animals Harry?”

“Before yeah,” Harry said. “Dumbledore told me long ago that you had no compassion. That you didn’t know what love is.”

“I don’t,” Voldemort said simply. “I don’t believe in what that old man believes love is.”

Harry just nodded and stood up. “I should have left a while ago, Draco will be worrying about me,” he said.

“He is teaching you potions?” Voldemort asked.

“Yeah… how did you know?” Harry said.

Voldemort did not answer, instead allowing Nagini to curl around his chair, and fall on his shoulders. Harry did his best to hide his grimace. After second year, he had a certain hatred and disgust for snakes. “Tell him to start teaching you poisons, it is about time you’ve begun that. …And let the cats out.”

After making sure the two cats were safely out of the manor, and away from his mentor and snake, he made his way to his and Draco’s room, falling in the blonde’s embrace. Over the past few days, he and Draco were coming closer and closer, spending every waking moment with each other when possible. Blaise was there too, but Harry quickly found out the borders of their relationship, the Italian Slytherin becoming more akin to a brother that Harry never had.

Draco took Harry into his arms and asked, “What is it Harry?”

“He and I had a misunderstanding,” Harry said. “He wants to either rule over or eliminate the Muggleborns and Muggles, and I just think we ought to leave the muggles alone.”

“Why?” Draco asked. “Mudbloods are useless—“

His jaw felt a stinging blow as Harry punched him, giving Draco an angry, sharp look. “Don’t you dare,” he seethed.

“Ow!” Draco said, massaging his jaw. “The hell was that for Harry? I just said that Mud—“

That earned him another punch. The aristocrat stumbled backwards. “Don’t use that word,” Harry growled out, his hands still in fists. “You know that my best friend is a Muggleborn! And she is the brightest witch of our age. There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“They’re the ones who forced their views on us,” Draco said, his fingers on his lips. “You made me bleed Potter!”

“You’re lucky that’s the only thing you’re doing,” Harry spat. “What is it with the lot of you? Do you guys really want to kill Muggleborns and Muggles just because?”

“Well… they’re annoying,” Draco said. “Always pushing their ideas on us, forcing us to bend to their rules. If it weren’t for them, people like us wouldn’t be considered illegal Harry. Honestly, I think we’re all better off with them dead.”

“Take that back,” Harry said, his wand pointed at Draco. Fury filled his eyes and heart as he glared at the taller Slytherin. “My mum was a Muggleborn you stupid git. So take that back.”

Draco met Harry’s glare, their ideals forcing the two to argue against another. Then, Draco smirked and said “You wouldn’t dare do anything to me Harry.”

“ _Crucio!_ ” Harry snarled. Shocked, Draco fell to the ground, screaming in agony. The spell and pain only lasted for a second. Draco looked up to see angry tears in Harry’s eyes. “I really don’t want to do this Draco. But don’t you dare insult my mother like that.”

“Fine, fine I’m sorry! God!” Draco said. “I’m sorry for insulting your mother and saying all Muggleborns should die.”

Harry seemed to accept the apology as he pocketed his wand and held out his hand. “I’m sorry for doing that Draco, I really am. Are you hurt?” He asked.

Draco laughed and said, “I’m fine Harry. Mostly shock. Thank God you’re piss poor at that Curse.” He grabbed Harry’s hand and got to his feet. He pulled Harry towards him, and hugged him to his chest. “The next time you decide to use an Unforgivable Curse Harry, there will be consequences. Got it?” he whispered menacingly. “Nobody uses those spells on me in my own Manor. Nobody.”

“Just don’t talk about Muggleborns like that again,” Harry countered. “I’m only after Dumbledore and the homophobic laws. Nothing less, nothing more.”

Draco smirked. “Okay, my little lion. Come on, you did wonderful yesterday with the potions.”

Harry nodded, their fight over and threats forgotten as they’ve made their way towards the cauldron. He looked at Draco and said, “He wants you to start teaching me poisons.”

“Poisons?” Draco asked, frowning. “I don’t know a lot about poisons Harry, to be honest. I’m a Potions-brewer, not a poison-brewer. I mean, yes, there are parts that interchange between the two, but still they are a different category all together.”

“I see… oh well,” Harry said. Draco shook his head and said, “Come on, I want you to be at least decent when you leave.”

“Right…” Harry said, frowning to himself. He knew he had two weeks left, but still the two weeks seemed to be nothing, and before he knew it he would be forced away from his comforts with Blaise and Draco, and forced into reality where Dudley waits for him.

By the end of his third week, Harry felt he had truly changed. He felt stronger, more powerful than before. Everything he had learned over the past three weeks all served to make him into a better wizard. He and Voldemort still had their disagreement about muggles and muggleborns, but Harry felt, and knew, that their relationship transformed into a space where that disagreement could exist. They were no longer enemies, no longer combatants fighting against each other for one side or the other. They were truly mentor and apprentice. Harry became Voldemort’s student, and Voldemort became his teacher. At the end of their lesson on the third week, Voldemort looked at Harry and said, “Harry, you’re ready. Do you remember the challenge I’ve gave you when we began?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said easily.

Voldemort stood up and said, “There is a Death Eater in the dungeons. He holds the information you require.”

“And what information is that, Sir?” Harry asked.

“Information that will save your life tonight,” Voldemort smirked. “More specifically, the Death Eater down in the dungeons knows the name of the Minister during my years at Hogwarts. During that time, most of the laws were up for review, and he made sure each and every one passed.”

“So you just need a name?” Harry asked.

“A name,” Voldemort repeated.

That sounded simple enough, so Harry turned and made his way towards the doors. “Oh, and Harry? I will ask the Death Eater if he was tortured after you get the information. So make sure that he remembers.”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said.

This was going to hurt him emotionally, he knew it. He felt awful when he did the curse on Draco for a second. But to continuously do it on an adult wizard he didn’t know? Just thinking about the sense act of cruelty made Harry’s guts churn. But he’ll stick through it and do as he was told. He has to; otherwise Harry didn’t know what will happen to him.

When Harry entered the dungeons, confusion met him. The “dungeons” looked more like a basement to Harry. There were no stone walls or stone pillars, no shackles or iron bars and cages, but instead old, dusty furniture and obvious Dark Artifacts that were covered with sheets. The Death Eater was standing guard in front of one of the sheeted artifacts, and looked confused when he noticed Harry’s presence. “What you doing here Potter?” he asked.

Harry stopped on the last step and had to shield his emotions away. He hoped that this would be quick, as he doesn’t have the stomach for torture. Harry made the final step and looked at the Death Eater. “You have information I need,” Harry said.

“What you on about Potter?” the man said, standing. But before he could reach for his wand, Harry’s wrist moved by instinct and he yelled “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

The man’s wand flew into the air and down to Harry’s hand. He caught it, and threw the wand away as he approached the man. Before he could react Harry had his wand train on him and decided to start light casting multiple Stinging Hexes. Red brands appeared on the Death Eater’s skin, each swelling horribly and disfiguring the man. He fell to his knees, screaming in pain, but started for Harry.

Harry took another step back, aiming a Stinging Hex at the Death Eater’s face. He screamed, his hands shooting to where Harry’s hex hurt him. “Tell me the name!” Harry yelled.

“What name you talking about?” the man groaned.

“The Minister’s name! Voldemort told me you knew!” Harry yelled again, casting another stinging hex.

“You forgot the Minister’s name Potter?” the man began to laugh. “What are you, stupid?”

Harry felt a surge of anger and anxiety well up inside him. He needed to finish this quickly. He pointed his wand at the Death Eater and yelled “ _Crucio!_ ” The man fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Harry tried to keep the spell going as long as he could. “Tell me the Minister’s name!” he shouted.

The man only screamed.

“Tell me!” Harry said, a hint of panic in his voice. This was only the second time he’d cast the Cruciatus Curse. The man started to laugh in his pain. “You need to tell me!” Harry yelled.

The curse stopped, and the man simply looked at Harry and continued laughing. “What the hell was that Potter? Were you actually serious?” he smirked.

Harry casted another Stinging Hex at the man, and even though it hit his face again, the Death Eater did not scream in pain. Instead he started to stand, and shake his head. “Really Potter, you need to do much more than that to get me to talk.”

Harry cast the Curse again, and kept it on as long as he was able to. The Death Eater stopped in his tracks and fell, his hand grabbing a sheet and pulling it down with him, revealing an ancient wooden table. When the Curse again failed, the man shook his head and said, “You’re such a failure Potter. No wonder you’re with that lout Malfoy all the time. Say, what you two doing up there anyway? Can’t be anything good, that’s for sure!”

Harry saw red. How dare he insult Draco! In his fury, his arm moved as he yelled “ _Bombarda!_ ” He wanted the spell to hit the Death Eater, but it missed, instead shattering the wooden table into a million pieces. Shrapnel and splinters flew in every direction, and Harry barely had enough time to cast a Shield Charm as the dungeon was filled with the sounds of the Death Eater screaming. Harry looked and saw a huge, sharp piece of wood had gutted the Death Eater, blood spitting out around the edge of the wound, the wood acting like a cork. “You bastard!” The Death Eater cried out, multiple splinters on his swelled face. “You complete bastard—“

“ _Crucio!_ ” Harry tried one last time, hoping that this would be enough to break him. The man screamed again and fell over. There was a sickening crunching noise as the sharpen wood went further into the man, his screams becoming gargled as blood and vomit coughed out of his mouth. Harry became extremely nauseated, bile coming into his mouth. He forced it back down, coughing and retching at the taste as he asked, “Who is the Minister The Dark Lord told you about?”

“Leonard Spencer-Moon!” The Death Eater screamed out in agony.

Harry stopped the spell immediately and turned to the side as he retched, doubling over and vomiting. Harry gagged and coughed between vomits, the awful stench hitting his senses as the puddle of vile spread out with each retch. Harry’s body broke into a cold sweat as he trembled. He spat several times, his mouth holding the awful, vicious taste of his deeds. The unnamed Death Eater wasn’t making any noises, and Harry didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to check, to see if he was actually dead. Even thinking about it, that he had killed a man, made Harry throw up again. His breathing was rapid, each breath hurting him as he turned and ran out of the dungeons. He needed to get out of there, to get away from what he had done.

Voldemort was waiting for him, standing at the top of the stairs, standing between him and salvation. “Well?” Voldemort asked.

Harry’s body couldn’t keep still, he could still smell the bile, and taste the residue as he looked up at his mentor. “Leonard… Spencer-Moon,” Harry breathed out. Voldemort smirked and walked down the stairs, his steps slow and methodical as the distance between the two became smaller and smaller. Harry stood still, his limbs refusing to listen to him. It felt like the stairs underneath him swallowed his feet and caused his legs to petrify as Voldemort stood on the step directly in front of him. Harry waited, expecting words, actions, anything from his mentor. But instead Voldemort just walked past Harry, and continued down the stairs.

Even though Voldemort was now behind him, Harry still couldn’t move, fear holding him as he dared to look back. Voldemort was on the last step, his head moving as he surveyed the basement. It appeared that the Death Eater was unfortunately still alive, as he heard his mentor’s voice, followed by the Death Eater’s. Then, before he knew it, Harry felt Voldemort’s presence directly behind him. “You have done well Harry. You’ve obtained the information, and left him alive long enough for me to confirm. You may go,” Voldemort said.

Harry wasted no time, his legs carried him back towards Draco’s rooms, and he flung himself into the bathroom, crouched over the toilet as he emptied his stomach again. He closed his eyes and willed the memory away, needing it to leave. He couldn’t have done that! He couldn’t have killed a man! Harry retched again, and spat into the toilet, grimacing at the small floating chunks in the toilet water. He flushed it away, but stayed on his knees. He felt a cool hand on his back, and looked to see Draco kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Harry frowned. He opened his mouth, but quickly moved back to the toilet as he began retching again, forcing air out of his lungs and stomach. Draco wiped his sweaty hair back, and rubbed small circles on the small of Harry’s back as the Gryffindor continued to cough. Harry didn’t know how long they’ve stayed in that position. Only that he was grateful for Draco’s presence as he looked to the Slytherin for support. When he was sure he wouldn’t throw up again, he stood up, went to the sink, and brushed his teeth thoroughly. He spat several times into the sink, washed his mouth, then turned to Draco, who was waiting patiently by the doorway.

“I… tortured someone,” Harry said slowly. “A Death Eater. Voldemort gave him information that he wanted me to get… it was locked by a Memory charm. I had to torture it out of him. Stinging Hexes and Cruciatus Curses wouldn’t work. I was angry, I casted Bombarda, and the table exploded, impaling him. … I used the Cruciatus Curse again, and he… he fell onto the wood. Draco, make me forget. Please!”

“Calm down Harry, everything will be okay,” Draco soothed. He brushed Harry’s cheek and held his hand gently. He led Harry towards their bed and sat him down. “Harry, I know how difficult it must have been,” Draco said softly. “But everything will be better, don’t worry. I’m here, I’m always here for you Harry.” Harry looked up at Draco and noticed how close they were. He could see Draco’s lips tremble slightly as his tongue pointed out, wetting them. Harry’s tongue poked out and mimicked Draco’s. Their faces were only inches apart, both boys looking into each other as they slowly gravitated towards each other.

When they were only centimeters away, Harry whispered again, “Make me forget Draco.”

“I will Harry,” Draco whispered. He closed the remaining centimeters between himself and Harry, and finally kissed his Baby.


	6. Time

Chapter VI

Time

“When does Harry get to Hogwarts?” Sam asked, her hand in the air.

The man looked at her, a chip hanging from his mouth. He bit it off, and placed the half on his plate. “What?” he asked.

“When does Harry get to Hogwarts?” Sam asked again. “It’s been like half an hour, but we’re not way near Hogwarts.”

The man chuckled. “Well, there’s a bit we have to go through before we reach Hogwarts… but I think we can speed through them. You all will have to listen very, very carefully. Can you promise me that?”

“Yeah!” the children cheered. The man chuckled good heartedly and said, “Alright. So… where did I left off?”

“Harry and Draco just kissed,” Sam blushed.

“Yes, they did,” the man nodded. He looked at the small audience thoughtfully and said, “How about this? We’ll skip ahead to Harry’s last week, do a bit on his leaving and time with Dumbledore, because it’s a bit important knowing what happens in Slughorn’s house, spend a little time in the Burrow and skip towards Hogwarts. Deal?”

“Yes!” Sam smiled.

“Okay, let’s see. So, it was Harry’s final week at Malfoy Manor. …

 

Harry felt there was so much for him to learn, but there wasn’t enough time. Lord Voldemort had taught Harry the Unforgivable Curses except for the Killing Curse, which Voldemort said he wasn’t ready for, as well as other various dark spells and arts. Harry was happy that Voldemort didn’t consider him ready for the Killing Curse. He couldn’t imagine, or stomach, using the spells again. He still felt regret using the Cruciatus Curse on Draco in a fit of anger, and have spent every day since then repeatedly apologizing to the taller boy. Draco kept reassuring him that they were fine, but still the guilt sat.

He was in the same room with Voldemort as he always was. The Dark Lord was sitting in his same armchair, never moving or standing. They had finished their last lesson. Harry was standing by the door, leaving, when Voldemort spoke up. “Harry, what am I to you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Answer my question, Potter,” Voldemort said. “We have been together a month. Do you still believe us enemies?”

Harry looked at him and thought for a while. If he was honest with himself, there were still several problematic things that laid between him and Voldemort. “You are the man who murdered my parents,” Harry started. “You’re the reason why I had to live with my aunt and uncle and cousin, as well as the main reason for the past five years I had to face. You’re also my mentor, and taught me about the Wizarding World and spells I would never have used before. So no, we’re not friends if that’s what you’re asking. But we’re also not enemies.”

“I see…” Voldemort nodded. “Very well, dismissed.”

Harry said nothing as he turned to leave. He somehow knew that Voldemort wouldn’t try to kill him. No, not after all that he has done. As he closed the door, he ran into Blaise, and the two decide to go for a walk.

Harry spent the rest of the day with Blaise and Draco. He felt lucky. During his entire visit, he didn’t run into or even see any Death Eaters that he known personally. Voldemort ensured him during his second week that none of the current Death Eaters here would dare talk about him, even Lucius Malfoy was keeping quiet on the whole ordeal. Harry was very reluctant to leave Draco and Blaise. During the month, the three have gotten close, and Harry didn’t want to stop that. Harry never thought of or dreamed that he and Draco would even become acquaintances, let alone boyfriends, but he was proven wrong as he found himself kissing his boyfriend goodbye.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright Harry?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine… I just need to cast a Memory spell. Simple, yeah?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked and kissed him again. “Yeah, of course it is. I’ll see you in Hogwarts Harry.”

“See ya,” Harry said.

They decided that Harry should travel by Portkey. It would be easier and less conspicuous than Floo Powder. An old shoe was waiting in the foyer, and after Harry said his final goodbyes, he touched the shoe and instantly vanished from the Manor.

The next, Harry noticed he was in the same alleyway that he had Disapparated a full month ago. Harry looked around the alleyway, and made sure he had everything he needed. Voldemort reassured him that Lucius Malfoy would make sure that his spells would not be noticed, but only for the one day. He needed to move fast, to make sure that his aunt, his uncle, Dudley, and nobody else knew that he was missing for a month.

Harry took his time walking towards Private Drive. His mind was buzzing with activity as he went over his plan again and again. He needed to wipe their memories, and convince them he was there the entire month. This will be dangerous, but Harry would be lying if he didn’t particularly cared about what damage this would do to Dudley. Voldemort was wrong. There are no such things as evil Muggles, or horrible Muggleborns. Just horrible people and Dudley Dursley was one of those people.

When Harry found himself on the front lawn of Number 4, the door barged open Dudley looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell are you doing back dog?” he demanded.

Harry walked by him, as if the fat oaf wasn’t there, and calmly opened the cupboard door, returning his possessions to where the Dursleys locked them. “Hey, I’m speaking to you mutt! Where were you?” Dudley demanded again.

“Where is Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?” Harry asked, ignoring Dudley’s question.

“Out, why you want to know fa—“

“ _Obliviate_!” Harry yelled, turning around quickly to aim his wand at his cousin. Just as the first time Harry casted the spell, a soft green haze surrounded Dudley, his eyes quickly gaining a glossy, dazed feature as he stood motionless in front of Harry. Harry thought about the past month, imagining what Dudley would have done during that time while Harry was with Draco and Blaise, and remembered the day he ran away. He focused on that day, and as the last of the green haze evaporated, he made his cousin forget about it, and the entire month. The easy part done, Harry now had to somehow fashion new memories, an excuse to explain his month-long absence. Voldemort barely touched on this part, and Harry had to do his best to make sure he doesn’t mess up. “You decided that it would be best if I… if I spent time with your friends, remember?” Harry lied, his wand waving as the light green haze seemed to reappear thicker than before. “You forgot to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. We were… in… London.”

The green haze seemed to surround Dudley’s head, tightening around him. However, unlike the first haze, this one didn’t merge with Dudley, going inside him, but just formed with his face, wrapping around each curve of fat as it tired, and failed, to reach Dudley’s memories. Harry began to worry as the haze continued to surround Dudley. Why wasn’t it going in? In a panic, Harry tried to add details, but his voice and tongue kept slipping on syllables. Then, the unthinkable happened, as a way to force the new memories into him, the haze seemed to enter through any opening it could find instead of gently phasing into him. Dudley began to choke and Harry moved rapidly, at a lost to what to do. He didn’t want his cousin to die! That would only make things more complicated!

“Don’t die you ass!” Harry yelled. His anger and worriment fueling his magic, the green haze lightened to the familiar light-green again, and softly disappeared again, the memory taking hold.

Harry gave a sigh of relief and relaxed against the wall, pocketing his wand. Dudley’s dazed eyes began to focus again, and he looked at Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. “So you’re back from London, eh?” he said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Good. I’ve been bored without you,” Dudley said, going to the living room. “Get with the chores dog!”

Harry said nothing, hiding his own smirk as he walked up to his room. There was a small stack of letters waiting for him, mostly from the Ministry and _Daily Prophet_. He looked through them. There was an article, about Harry being the “Chosen One,” as well as Fudge being replaced by a man named Scrimgeour. There was also a purple leaflet emblazoned with the words:

Issued on Behalf of

**_THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_ **

_PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES_

_The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack._

  1. _You are advised not to leave the house alone_
  2. _Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen._
  3. _Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Apparition._
  4. _Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2)._
  5. _Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend, or neighbor is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse._
  6. _Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror office immediately._
  7. _Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Death Eaters may now be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sighting of an Inferius, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY._



Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the pamphlet. It was filled with mostly stupid policies and unhelpful tips, but he was slightly curious to what an Inferi was. He hadn’t seen any of them at Malfoy Manor, granted he didn’t see much at the Manor besides Draco’s bedroom, the garden, and Draco and Blaise. The next was a letter from Dumbledore, telling Harry that he will escort Harry to the Burrow at the end of the week on Friday, at eleven p.m., smiling at this, Harry realized that he only had to suffer through living with the Dursleys for three more days before he’ll be safe and sound at the Burrow.

His aunt and uncle came home a couple of hours later, and Dudley explained the lie Harry planted inside him perfectly. They accepted it without question, and everything began to go as “normal.” The three days passed by smoothly, and Harry soon found himself in his room, his trunk packed as he waited for the minutes to slowly tick towards eleven.

When eleven approached, Harry heard Dumbledore’s deep voice as Mr. Dursley answered the door. Dumbledore invited himself in, and before he and Harry left his muggle relatives for the last time, Dumbledore informed Harry that Sirius’s will had been discovered, and he had left everything to Harry. Harry, never wanting to step a foot in Grimmauld Place ever again, gave it to the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore smiled, and with the business settled, he and Harry left the Dursleys.

Together they’ve Apparated to the small village of Budleigh Babberton, and Dumbledore led Harry towards a small house at the end of a couple of roads. The gate was left unlocked, and all of the windows were dark. On their walk, Harry noticed that Dumbledore’s hand was injured, the skin withered-looking.

They’ve entered the small house, and walked into a scene of total devastation. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even high, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper. Harry’s small intake of breath made Dumbledore look around.

“Not pretty, is it?” he said heavily. “Yes, something horrible has happened here.”

“This couldn’t be a Death Eater attack, could it, sir?” Harry asked. “There was no Dark Mark here.”

“You are correct in that, Harry,” Dumbledore nodded. “No Death Eater did this.”

“Then who did?”

“Well, I was going to ask him myself,” Dumbledore said, then without warning he plunged the tip of his wand into the seat of an overstuffed armchair, which yelled, “Ouch!”

“Good evening, Horace,” Dumbledore said, straightening again.

Harry’s jaw dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye.

“There was no need to stick the wand in that hard,” he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. “It hurt.”

“What gave it away?” he grunted as he staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly.

“My dear Horace, just as Harry here had said, if this really was a Death Eater attack, the Dark Mark would have been over your home,” Dumbledore said.

The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead. “The Dark Mark,” he muttered. “Knew there was something …ah well. Wouldn’t have had time anyway, I’d only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room.”

He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his mustache flutter.

“Would you like my assistance clearing up?” Dumbledore asked politely.

“Please,” the other said.

The two stood back to back and waved their wands in one identical sweeping motion. Harry watched amaze as the room fixed itself, the chandelier repairing into one piece as it lifted towards the ceiling; ornaments reformed in midair; feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished.

“This,” Dumbledore said, moving forward to make the introduction, “is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn.”

Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. The two talked, but Harry didn’t listen, he was too busy looking around. Before he knew it, it was just Harry and Slughorn, Dumbledore excused himself to the bathroom.

“Don’t think I don’t know why he’s brought you,” Slughorn said abruptly.

Harry merely looked at Slughorn.

“You look very like your father.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” Harry said. “Except for my eyes.”

“Hmpf Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answered to Harry’s questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

“Which was your House?”

“I was Head of Slytherin,” Slughorn said. “Don’t be holding that against me, you’re Gryffindor I suppose. Like her?”

Harry nodded.

“Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.”

“One of my best friends is Muggle-born,” Harry said, “and she is the best in our year.”

“Funny how that sometimes happens, isn’t it?” Slughorn said.

“Not really,” Harry said coldly.

Slughorn looked down at him in surprise. “You mustn’t think I’m prejudiced!” he said. “No, no, no! Haven’t I just said your mother was one of my all-time favorite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too—now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course—another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!”

He bounced up and down a little, smiling in a self-satisfied way, and pointed at the many glittering photographs frames on the dresser, each peopled with tiny moving occupents.

Harry moved closer to examine each and every one as Slughorn spoke, the old man’s voice drifting into the background. He found his mom first in one of the pictures, smiling surrounded by a small group of witches and wizards Harry didn’t recognize. He moved slowly, his eyes shifting from photo to photo, stopping briefly when he saw a teenage Lucius Malfoy in one of the pictures. He looked more feminine than Harry thought he would look, though Harry supposed it was because of his long platinum blonde hair; much unlike Draco’s short yet neat hair which Harry liked to comb his fingers through.

Then, at the end of the row, Harry stopped when he saw them. Sitting in the middle of the picture was Tom Riddle, looking just as Harry remembered from his second year when he destroyed the diary, and next to him was a small boy with a serious expression. “Tom Riddle… and Adrian Balks,” Harry said out loud.

“Yes, yes you’re right,” Slughorn sighed, looking at the photograph. “They were fine students, one of the best I ever had. They were also good friends. Such as shame really, that they had to end up the way they did.”

Harry tried hard to keep his face stoic. “You know, you don’t have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts, if that’s your concern,” he said. “Most of the teachers aren’t in it, and none of them has ever been killed—well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was working with Voldemort.”

Harry had been sure Slughorn would be one of those wizards who could not bear to hear Voldemort’s name spoken aloud, and was not disappointed: Slughorn gave a shudder and a squawk of protest, which Harry ignored.

“I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore’s headmaster; he’s supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn’t he?” Harry went on, surprised at how earnest he sounded as he said those words. Right now, he just couldn’t decide whom he hated more: his headmaster or his mentor.

Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: He seemed to be thinking over Harry’s words.

“Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore,” he muttered grudgingly. “And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend …in which case, I must well be safer a little closer to Albus.”

Dumbledore reentered the room and Slughorn jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house.

“Oh, there you are, Albus,” he said. “You’ve been a very long time. Upset stomach?”

“No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines,” Dumbledore said. “I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, we have trespassed upon Horace’s hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave.”

Not at all reluctant to obey, Harry jumped to his feet. Slughorn seemed taken aback.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one.”

“Lost…?”

Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his traveling cloak,  and Harry zip up his jacket.

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t want the job, Horace,” Dumbledore said, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. “Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to.”

“Yes… well …very gracious ….as I say …”

“Good-bye, then.”

“Bye,” Harry said.

They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.

“All right, all right, I’ll do it!”

Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway to the sitting room. “You will come out of retirement?”

“Yes, yes,” Slughorn said impatiently. “I must be mad, by yes.”

 

“When will Harry reach Hogwarts?” Sam asked again impatiently.

“We still have a ways to go,” the man repeated a bit annoyed at the constant interruptions. “But if you want me to speed it up, fine. We can skip most of the summer, and Harry’s visit to the famed Weasleys Wizard Wheezes at its first store—“

“I love that store!” Tommy smiled.

“Yes, well, it opened during that summer, though I personally didn’t visit it,” the man said.

“Where were you?” Tommy Finnigan asked.

“Huh? Oh, I was home most of the summer. Draco and I, we had a bit of conflicting ideas, and I was extremely busy, so I didn’t see much daylight during that summer,” the man chuckled. “Though, don’t worry, we made up quickly on the train ride to Hogwarts. That was when he and Blaise told me everything that happened during the summer.”

“What was the ideas?” Flint asked.

“Just some childish stuff, I don’t remember it,” the man shrugged. “Now, do we really want to skip Harry’s visit to the opening of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes just to get to Hogwarts?”

The children looked around each other. Hugo frowned as he shook his head at the man. “No, I want to hear about that,” he said.

“I want to hear about Hogwarts!” Sam insisted. “Is it true that the staircases move by themselves?” she asked.

“Yes, but I don’t think that’s important right now…” the man said. He looked at the kids and sighed. “Okay… how about we do a show of hands. Who wants me to skip everything and go to Hogwarts completely confuse?”

Sam’s hand flew into the air before the man even finished his sentence. She looked around and threw soft glares at the other two girls sitting with them, who shyly offered their hands again. “Come on Tommy,” she whispered at his friend.

“I wanna hear about the store,” Tommy argued back. Sam gave an annoyed huff and raised her other hand, as if she had two votes.

“Okay, that’s three votes for skipping to Hogwarts,” the man counted. “How about continuing at the quick pace, but we focus on a few important things?”

Flint’s hand was reluctant to go into the air as Tommy and Hugo raised their hands. The man looked at the six of them before looking at the twins sitting in the back. Clearly the youngest of the group, the two twins didn’t vote. “Well,” the man said in a soft voice, “do you guys want to skip to Hogwarts or keep going?”

The two twins look at each other and whispered. They moved towards Tommy and whispered in his ear. “They want us to continue,” Tommy said.

“Oh, okay…” the man said a bit confused. The twins frowned and pointed to their throats.

“They’re sick,” Tommy said. “Told me they’re losing their voices.”

“Ahh, alright. How about we get some tea for the two and try to do something about it?” the man asked, looking at the barmaid who was listening into the story. She jumped when she realized she was caught slacking off and quickly ran towards the bar to get the tea. The man chuckled and settled back in his chair.

“Let’s see… short, short version. After Harry and Dumbledore successfully got Slughorn out of retirement, they’ve apparated to the Burrow. Harry, of course, using Side-Along Apparition. Before Harry entered the Burrow, however, Dumbledore brought Harry into a shed, don’t worry children he didn’t try to do anything, instead he told Harry that during this year, he himself will be giving Harry lessons. These lessons, ironically enough, were to help Harry survive against his fight with his mentor.

“Harry then went into the Burrow where he spent time with the Weasleys, and one new guest: Fleur Delacour who was engaged to a Bill Weasley, but that’s not important. What is important is one conversation Harry had with his best friend Ron. It happened the second day Harry was there…”

Harry and Ron were in their bedroom, it was dark and Ron seemed a bit restless. They were both in the pajamas, Harry was exhausted, and yet he couldn’t help but feel his friend’s restlessness. “Ron… is anything the matter?” Harry asked, a small frown on his face.

“What? No—err, yeah… Harry… there’s something I need to tell you,” Ron said.

“What is it Ron?” Harry asked.

“Just err… promise me you’ll won’t change your mind bout me, yeah? Don’t think I can deal with that…” Ron said.

“Ron, you’re my mate. You know you can tell me anything.” Harry insisted.

Ron just nodded and looked at Harry, “Well… you say that now. … I like blokes Harry. Instead of liking girls, I like blokes.”

“Oh…” Harry said. He looked at Ron, and before he had a horrible reaction, Harry said quickly, “I like guys too Ron. I’m gay.”

“You are?” Ron said, a shy hopeful look on his face.

 “Yeah,” Harry nodded. “There’s a few things I need to tell you… I’ve tried to get here, a month before… I was running away from the Dursleys, and in a panic I tried to Apparate. It didn’t work and I’ve ended up hurting myself badly. I was trying to get to here, but instead I’ve somehow ended up at Malfoy Manor. … Dra—Malfoy found me, along with Zabini. They’re like us Ron, and they patched me up. I thought they would try to pull something, but they didn’t. Instead, we’ve talked and… call me crazy, but I’ve started liking them. Especially Draco. But, as they helped me, they taught me these great things Ron, and not so great… I never knew that it was like this here. I’ve always thought that they would be more accepting, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ron sighed, his hopeful look softening. “But Malfoy and Zabini?”

Harry nodded, “They’re really nice Ron, seriously. I think you’ll like them once you give them the chance.”

“I don’t know…” Ron sighed, he looked at his best friend for a moment.

“There’s one thing they also told me,” Harry continued seriously. “They’ve told me who it was that made sure all the laws against us passed.”

“Who?”

“Dumbledore,” Harry said. “I know, it’s hard to believe, I don’t think I believe it myself, but I have to know for myself… But, if it’s true… then I want to do something, yeah? I mean, I can’t just live knowing that in both the muggle and Wizarding world I’m considered a freak! I… I gotta do something.”

Ron stayed quiet. He just looked at Harry for a moment before nodding. “I, I believe you.” They both sighed, and Harry looked at his friend, blushing. “Err… I don’t think I can sleep by myself tonight. You?”

“No,” Ron said shaking his head. “Not after what you said.”

“Move over,” Harry said, getting off of his own bed. Ron moved toward the edge of his bed as Harry squeezed in. “When was the last time we did this?”

“I dunno… second year?”

“Your bed was bigger than,” Harry said, trying to keep a reasonable distance between him and Ron. He reached for his wand, and pointed it at the bed, “ _Engorgio!_ ” he said. The bed swelled up as it grew, becoming twice its original size, pushing Ron’s nightstand across the wooden floor as it did so. Ron looked with tired amazement as Harry easily expanded his bed and blankets. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he asked.

Harry shrugged, “It’s a think Draco and Blaise taught me. … We all slept together when they told me about Dumbledore. I just didn’t feel safe alone.”

Ron just nodded, hiding his jealous frown. “We should sleep, mum’ll keep us busy tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and turned the lights off. “Ron,” he said as the room turned to darkness, “can you promise me not to tell anyone? I don’t know if we can tell anyone yet.”

“Don’t worry Harry, you’re secret’s good with me,” Ron said. “But the twins are safe… so’s Charlie. We can tell them… if you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Harry said as the two friends fell asleep.

 

“True to their words, both Harry and Ron kept each other’s secret as they went on life as normal at the Burrow. They’ve done the chores Mrs. Weasley assigned to them, hung out with Hermione, played Quidditch, and at the end of the day retired to their room where they once again fell asleep in their own beds. Before Harry knew it, owls came with their results for the O.W.L. exams, as well as his sixth year school list. Harry has done very well, though it seems his ambition to become an Auror was at an end because of the dark ‘E’ on the slip, instead of the ‘O’ that Professor Snape required. His hopes, however, didn’t flatten his mood as he traveled to Diagon Alley, which became a cold and barren place because of the Death Eater’s kidnapping. Escorted by Hagrid, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys separated to get their school supplies before visiting the shop ran by Fred and George Weasley.”

 

Ron and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that the Nosebleed Nougats was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answering varieties.

Harry found himself bumping into the twins’ backs as he wondered the shop. “Hello Harry,” Fred smirked.

“Fancy bumping into you here,” George said. “How do you like our shop?”

“It’s brilliant,” Harry said, looking at the twins who wore matching sets of magenta robes.

“This is really extraordinary magic!” Hermione said, pointing to a box labeled “Patented Daydream Charms.”

“For that, Hermione, you can have one for free,” Fred said grinning. He looked towards George and said, “How about we give Harry a tour?”

“Alright then, come on Harry!” George said, the two twins turning away from Hermione, who was still studying the Daydream charms.

The twins showed Harry around the crowded shop, pointing this way and that, as they made their way towards the back. There was a small corner devoted to Muggle tricks, “for people like dad,” and next to that was a door that Harry was led through. The three were alone and Harry remembered what Ron had told him before, so before they took another step, Harry stopped and said, “Fred, George, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m gay.”

“Oh… awesome,” Fred smirked. “Just don’t tell mum or dad, alright? They’ll flip.”

Harry nodded, “Ron already told me that. Umm I’m actually thinking of trying to fix the laws. I mean, they’re all terrible! Especially the ones that stop us from getting pregnant!”

George frowned and nodded, “I know Harry, trust us. It sucks. But hey, you’re always safe with us yeah? Now, come on. One last thing, and then we’re going to help you have some fun!”

They moved deeper into the room, and Harry saw boxes with more subdued packaging. “We’ve just developed this more serious line,” Fred said. “Funny how it happened …”

“You wouldn’t believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can’t do a decent Shield Charm,” George said. “’Course they didn’t have you teaching them Harry.”

“Started as a joke, you know, Shield Hats, but the Ministry started buying, and now we’ve expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves…”

“I mean, they won’t work against the serious stuff like the Unforgivable Curses, but they’ll work on most spells.”

“These are all cool,” Harry said, looking at the Shield clothing. The twins continued to show Harry product after product until a girl wearing the same magenta robes poked her head inside and asked for their assistance. “Duty calls,” Fred sighed.

George looked at Harry and winked, “Come on Harry, time to play straight like good boys.”

George went off with the witch as Fred stayed with Harry, picking out prank after prank for his “war” that he was planning. “So Harry, have any eyes on anyone?” Fred asked.

Harry blushed and looked away. “Well…”

“God really?” Fred laughed. “Don’t tell me we’re already adding another one to our family!”

Harry tried to shush Fred as he looked around frantically. “It’s Draco,” Harry said, quickly telling Fred the same story he told Ron. When he was over, Fred nodded and said, “I see how you can fall for the prat that easily… just leave that Zabini kid for Ron, okay? Your best friend needs some love too—ah remember the portable swamps? This will work brilliantly.”

Harry ignored the comment about Ron and Blaise, using all of his concentration to stop from blushing, as he followed Fred around. When Mrs. Weasley was ready to leave, Harry had several bags filled with jokes and pranks and he didn’t spend a single galleon on it. “A birthday present from us,” George said. He shrunk Harry’s bags for him, so that they easily fitted into his pocket.

 

“And after that, the summer went as normal for Harry,” the man said. “He and Draco and Blaise sent secret letters towards each other, just normal stuff like how their summer was going and what their graders were, and how much they missed each other,” the man shrugged. He stopped talking to catch his breath and smile when the barmaid gave the small twins two cups of tea. “Drink up boys,” he said to them before addressing his crowd, which seemed to be growing by the minute as adults and passersby stopped to listen to him. “So anyway, yeah. Summer went by, a wedding that would never occur was planned, and before Harry knew it September was rolling in.

“So, yes Sam,” the man smiled at Sam, “We are now at Hogwarts, and I will finally arrive into our story.”


	7. Unexpected Greetings

Chapter VII

Unexpected Greetings

Harry was pleased to see Draco and Blaise in the compartment with Professor Slughorn. Earlier that day, Harry and his friends arrived at Platform nine and three quarters at King’s Cross to board the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione left him to perform “prefect duties” leaving Harry alone in a compartment with Neville and Luna. The three were shocked when a first year ran up to them with two letters from Professor Slughorn, inviting both to lunch in compartment C. The two saw at once that they were the last of Slughorn’s invitees, although Harry was the most warmly anticipated by Slughorn’s welcome.

Harry squeezed into the compartment, sitting between Blaise and Draco with a smile as he finally took the time to look around. Squashed in a corner was Ginny Weasley, looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, there was a large, wiry-haired muscular Gryffindor next to her, as well as a thin and nervous-looking boy.

“Ah yes, it is nice to see you know some people here, Harry m’boy!” Slughorn said, smiling at Harry. “And you must be Mr. Longbottom! Now, do you all know everyone?” Slughorn seemed to miss the look of shock from the rest of the compartment, who were all staring at the trio who were sitting comfy together. Harry didn’t care about their looks though; he only cared about being with his boyfriend and “brother” again.

“This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you’ve come across each other—? No?”

The large wiry-haired Gryffindor raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

“It seems that you are already good friends with Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy, surprising but it’s nice to see,” Slughorn said. “Anyway this—“ he points to the thin, nervous-looking boy, “is Marcus Belby, I don’t know whether—? No? Alright then, now this charming young lady tells me she knows you!” Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn’s back, though Harry could see a look of betrayal in her eyes as she looked between Zabini and Malfoy.

“Well now, this is most pleasant,” Slughorn said cozily. “A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I’ve packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man’s digestive system isn’t quite up to such things. …Pheasant, Belby?”

“What are you two doing here?” Harry whispered to Draco and Blaise. Draco smiled at Harry and said, “We got invitations. We were in a compartment with Nott, Parkinson, and the lot when a first year came by with two scrolls for us.”

“Yeah, we were one of the first ones here,” Blaise nodded. “Well, after Weasley there,” he pointed towards Ginny, who was still glancing at Harry. “Just you didn’t told them about us Harry?” he chuckled.

“Well, I told Ron,” Harry whispered. “What do you expect me to say? I’m dating Malfoy and Zabini is now practically my brother?”

“Fair enough,” Draco shrugged, glancing around as Slughorn talked exposition about the people sitting in the compartment. Slughorn was currently talking about McLaggen. Draco should have known. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential—everyone of course, except Weasley. He stared at the female Weasley, curious to why she was here. Belby’s uncle invented the Wolfsbane Potion, Draco knew that the nervous student would never live up to that fame, McLaggen’s uncle Tiberius was an official at the Ministry of Magic who was close to Scrimgeour, (Draco remembered his father mentioning Tiberius), Blaise of course had his mother, Longbottom’s parents were well-known Aurors who were tortured to insanity by his Aunt Bellatrix.

“And now, Draco Malfoy,” Slughorn chuckled. “I had your grandfather Abraxas as a student, as well as your father. Such a shame about Abraxas. Dragonpox at his age.”

Draco snapped his attention back to Slughorn and simply nodded. “Yes, it was a tragedy. Though I was only six when it happened, so I barely had any memories of it.”

“But I am sure you have memories of your father,” Slughorn chuckled. “A very important man in the Ministry if I hear correctly. I was very relieved to hear that he was cleared of those nasty charges sixteen years ago.”

Draco smiled politely and said, “We are as well. My family has been loyal to the Ministry for generation, professor. Anyone who doubts that are surely mistaken.”

Ginny snickered, sending a sharp look at Draco which both he and Slughorn ignored or didn’t notice.

“And I am sure they are,” Slughorn nodded. “A nasty thing the Imperious Curse is. Hopefully it shouldn’t be used every again.”

“I hope so too, Professor,” Draco agreed. Harry snickered as he looked towards his boyfriend, a knowing smile on his face. “They would do bad with our apothecaries.”

“Ah yes! The only place in England where one can get rare materials,” Slughorn chuckled. “For the right price of course.”

“We do offer discounts for old Hogwarts staff,” Draco informed. “I thought my father would have told you that.”

Slughorn shook his head, his many chins jiggling with each shake. “No, no he did not.”

“Then we must remedy that immediately Professor,” Draco said. Slughorn gave a laugh and thanked Draco.

“And now,” Slughorn said, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. “Harry Potter! _Where_ to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!” He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Draco whispered to Harry. “Only I can know all of you Harry.”

Harry barely suppressed a blush as he tried to keep his attention on Slughorn, the rest of the compartment staring at him.

“Such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn’t know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes—we can ask your friend Draco here about them—but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!”

Draco and Blaise glanced at Harry worryingly, they both knew that the summer was a sore subject for Harry because of Sirius. Harry just nodded and said nothing.

Slughorn beamed, and asked Harry about the prophecy.”

“We never heard a prophecy,” Neville said, turning geranium pink as he said it.

“That’s right,” Ginny said staunchly. “Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual.”

“You were both there too, were you?” Slughorn asked with great interest, looking from Ginny and Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile—

 

“Sir? What happened that summer?” Sam asked, raising her hand.

The man stopped his story and looked at the crowd in front of him. “I’m sorry?”

“What happened that summer?” Sam asked, “The one at the Ministry! Mum and dad wouldn’t tell me.”

“Well, I wasn’t there personally,” the man said crossing his arms. “But I did heard a lot about it, both from the _Prophet_ and Harry. Let’s see… the short version is that the Dark Lord lured Harry Malf—I mean Harry Potter to the Department of Mysteries by sending him visions of his godfather, Sirius Black. It was a trap, naturally, as the Death Eaters wanted Harry to collect a prophecy that concerned both him and the Dark Lord. Now please don’t ask me for the prophecy specifically, I don’t know or remember. I’m sure Harry told me about it once, something like both his life and the Dark Lord’s life connected for some reason and neither of them couldn’t live while the other survived... I personally think it’s all hogwash. Never believe in prophecy kids, they’ll just make you paranoid. Any other questions?”

Another hand shot up, Tommy Finnigan basically jumping out of his seat. “Were you in the Slug Club?”

“No, I wasn’t,” the man shook his head. “Any more questions before I continued my story? No? Okay then. So Slughorn began to reminiscence about his old students including Gwenog Jones, but Harry had the distinct feeling that he was not nearly done with him, and that he had not been convinced by Neville and Ginny…”

 

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the “Slug Club” at Hogwarts. Harry spent the time looking around the compartment, curious to the strange look McLaggen was giving him, and whispered to both Draco and Blaise.

“What is this prophecy Slughorn talked about?” Draco asked, his eyes shifting towards Slughorn for a second to make sure no one was listening in.

“A thing that connected me and Voldemort,” Harry whispered, ignoring the small jumps both Blaise and Draco made at the name. “Honestly,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it prophesizes that Voldemort marked me as his equal, and so I am the only one who can kill him.”

“Kill him?” Draco whispered, “Do you really want to kill him now?”

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. “I mean, yeah we disagree about Muggles and I still hate him… but he’s my mentor.”

“This doesn’t seem like a conversations you should be having here boys,” Blaise whispered. “We don’t know who might be listening in,” he pointed towards Ginny who never stopped glaring at the three of them.

“Sorry Blaise,” Harry said.

Blaise just smirked and shook his head. “She means nothing Harry, don’t worry.”

“I know,” Harry said.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

“Good gracious, it’s getting dark already! I didn’t notice that they’d lit the lamps! You’d better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Draco, I expect a huge discount next time I run low on potions ingredients. Harry, Blaise—any time you’re passing. Some goes for you, miss,” he twinkled at Ginny. “Well, off you go, off you go!”

Ginny and Neville stayed quiet as Harry, Draco, and Blaise moved out of the compartment. “Well Harry, we would drag you to join us, but I’m not sure our friends would like that,” Draco said, pointing towards Neville and Ginny.

Harry nodded with a frown, “Yeah, I would love to spend more time with you two, it’s been a month since we’ve seen each other!”

“Don’t worry Harry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other,” Blaise smirked, winking at Harry. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

Harry watched Draco and Blaise walk down the corridor before turning towards Ginny and Neville.

“Uhh Harry… what was –“

“The hell was that about Harry?” Ginny demanded. “Why are you chummy with Slytherins?”

“They’re my friends,” Harry said simply. “We hung out during the summer, that’s it.”

“But they’re Slytherins Harry,” Neville said, “are you sure that’s a… good idea?”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “They’re just regular guys, and they’re really fun to hang out with.”

“But they’re Malfoy Harry! Malfoy.” Ginny said. “You know, the same one who called Hermione ‘mudblood multiple times and not to mention the countless times he been a prat to you, Ron, Hermione and me!”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah he’s a bit problematic like that, but he’s learning.”

“Idiot,” Ginny said, shaking her head before leaving them. Harry turned to Neville and frowned. “You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t know Harry… I mean, it is Malfoy we’re talking about… and the Slytherins aren’t known for being nice to Gryffindors and the other students,” Neville said.

Harry sighed irritated and said, “Well, Draco and Blaise are different, okay? Don’t believe me, ask Ron.”

“H-Hey! Don’t take this out on me,” Neville said, raising his hands in the hair defensively. Harry shook his head and said, “Never mind, let’s just get back to our compartment.”

By the time they’ve returned to their compartment, Harry found that Ron and Hermione were sitting down with Luna. “There you are, where were you guys?” Hermione asked.

“Slughorn’s compartment,” Harry said as he sat down. “He invited us and a few others.”

“Wonder why,” Ron said. Harry shrugged and told them about what happened during the meeting.

When he was halfway through going through what happened, Neville bit his lip before blurting, “Harry’s friends with Malfoy and Zabini!”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed, looking at Harry with a shocked expression. “What is Neville talking about?”

“They’re my friends,” Harry said, deciding that he wouldn’t tell any of them about his and Draco’s close _friendship_. He didn’t know if he could trust any of them beside Ron about that.

Hermione looked around, noticing that Ron wasn’t the only one who wasn’t shocked. “You _knew_?” she demanded.

“He told me the night he came to the Burrow,” Ron said. “He made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“But still… Harry, this could be extremely dangerous. Who knows if they are working for Voldemort or not, they could lead you to your death!” Hermione argued.

“No they won’t Hermione,” Harry said. “Draco and Blaise won’t lead me to my death! They’ve saved me!”

“Saved you?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, they saved me,” Harry huffed. He felt too annoyed to explain everything, so he just crossed his arms across his chest and sat back in the chair, glaring at his feet. No one else mentioned Draco nor Blaise during the rest of the train ride, though Harry could feel a thick tension between them all as he just looked down at his feet.

 

Meanwhile, Draco and Blaise returned to their compartment. It was packed filled with sixth-year Slytherins, the two broad Crabbe and Goyle taking up most of the seat on one side, Nott squashed in the corner because of them, as Pansy Parkinson, a pug-nosed girl, sitting by herself on the other side.

“Draco!” she cooed, making room for Draco as he and Blaise entered. “What did Slughorn want?”

“Just to make up to well-connected people,” Draco said sitting down in the seat, a fair distance from Parkinson as Blaise sat next to him. “Not that he found many.”

“Who did he invite?” Nott asked from his corner.

“A Gryffindor named McLaggen, his uncle’s big in the Ministry,” Draco explained. “Someone called Belby from Ravenclaw—“

“He’s a prat,” Pansy sneered.

“He’s better mannered than you,” Blaise said. “Then there’s Longbottom, Potter, and the girl Weasley.”

“He invited Potter,” Pansy sneered.

“Of course he did, what was it the _Prophet_ called him?” Nott said mockingly, “The ‘Chosen One’.” He snickered.

Draco glared at the Slytherin. “What did I say about Potter?” he demanded.

Nott shrugged, “Can’t remember Malfoy, Pansy was talking over you.”

Draco turned his glare from Nott to Parkinson. “Well, then I’ll repeat it again if everyone is quiet. This year, I do not want to hear anyone bad mouth Potter. Understand?”

“Why?” Parkinson demanded.

“Because I told you to,” Draco said. “That should be enough. Or are you even stupider than Crabbe and Goyle and can’t even follow simple directions?”

Parkinson gave Draco a sharp look but said nothing.

“Alright,” Nott said, stretching. “Though why didn’t he invite me I wonder.”

“Your father is openly connected to the Death Eaters,” Draco said.

“What and yours isn’t?”

“Not openly you prat,” Draco spat. “Father and my family made sure to openly separate ourselves as much as we can from the Dark Lord. Honestly if your father had half the wit my family had, you might be sitting in that cramp compartment with us.”

“Ha! The old fool must be going senile then,” Nott complained. Draco just rolled his eyes.

“That or he had just refined his taste,” Blaise said.

“But what’s so special about that Weasley girl?” Parkinson sneered. “Why did he invite her?”

“A lot of boys like her,” Nott said. “You have to agree, right Blaise? And we all know how hard you are to please!”

“Please, I wouldn’t touch her even if you paid me,” Blaise said coldly, ignoring the pleased look Parkinson was giving.

“What about you Draco?” Parkinson asked. Draco barely glanced at her, annoyed that she seemed to mime her want for him to lay on her lap.

“Same of Blaise, besides I have someone,” Draco said.

“Who is she?” Parkinson blazed with instant jealousy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know… Pansy get out, we’re changing,” Draco decided as he stood up. She stayed seated as Goyle reached for his trunk. “I sad leave,” Draco repeated.

“No, not until you tell me who she is,” Pansy said.

Draco glared down at her, his hand itching to reach for his wand. “Parkinson,” he said coldly, making her feel less than dirt. “When I say something, you do it. That is how it goes here. Or did you forget about that?”

Parkinson glared at Draco before getting to her feet. “Sod off Malfoy,” she cursed before leaving the compartment.

“Women… hate them,” Draco muttered as he reached for his trunk, taking out his school robes. When the boys were all changed, they’ve sat down again, Draco’s attitude lightening immensely without Parkinson in the compartment.

“So Draco…” Nott said a bit timidly. “Now that Pansy isn’t here, who are you interested in? What’s her name?”

“And what would you do with this information?” Draco asked, leaning back into the seat. “And why is it so important?”

“Just curiosity,” Nott shrugged. Blaise snickered, which caused Nott to turn to him. “What you know who she is?”

“Of course I know who… _she_ is,” Blaise said, his body shaking with mirth as he tried his best not to laugh. “I’ve met _her_ , and let me tell you _she_ is beautiful, isn’t _she_ Draco?”

Draco gave Blaise a sharp look before nodding. He knew that Harry is his, but still the playful look Blaise had annoyed him.

“Does she have a name?”

“Figure it out,” Draco shrugged. He looked out the window and said, “I can see Hogwarts, we’re nearly there.”

“Come on guys, you can’t just keep it from me,” Nott said annoyingly.

Draco and Blaise looked at each other, grimacing for a second before turning towards Nott again.

“Never,” Blaise said, shaking his head. “Neither of you will know who they are, understand?” He said, looking at Crabbe and Goyle.

The two trolls frowned but nodded. The boys were silent for the rest of the ride, and as the train slowly pulled up into the station Draco was the first to leave, deciding to leave his prefect duties to Parkinson. He and Blaise led the Slytherins as they made their way towards the carriages that waited patiently for them, horseless as always. As Draco stepped into his carriage, he looked out and smiled when he saw his sweet innocent lion stepping off the Hogwarts Express, followed by his friends. He saw in the distance Parkinson coming towards his carriage and closed the door, locking it. The carriage began moving down the path towards Hogwarts and Draco couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“Was that really necessary?” Blaise asked.

“Yes, it was,” Draco said. “I want her to know that I don’t want her around. At all.”

Blaise smirked and nodded, “I guess I can see that, but still remember her dad’s a Death Eater. She’s going to work for us eventually.”

“No she will not,” Draco said, his arms crossed. “She’s an annoying loose cannon, right Nott?”

“Wha—I guess,” Nott said, nodding. “I mean, she can’t keep secrets very well but she has her uses. You have to admit she’s cute, yeah?”

“As if,” Draco said, scrunching his nose. “If you want her Nott, I’ll leave you too it just don’t tell me about it.”

“I can?” Nott smiled happily. He cleared his voice embarrassingly “I mean… thanks, I guess…”

Draco just shrugged and relaxed in his seat, watching the scenery go by.

When they reached Hogwarts, Draco’s eyes never left Harry. He was always watching the boy, even as Filch poked and prodded him with Sensory Sensors, looking for Dark Objects. Draco was about to chuckle at the idiocy, wondering who would be stupid enough to bring in a Dark Object through the front gate into Hogwarts, but stopped when the sensors went off over Crabbe. The troll tried to bring in a shrunken head. Annoyed at the boy, Draco made sure to stay away from the halfwit as he and Blaise walked together. It seems to Draco that, after Nott’s calling Parkinson “cute” and Crabbe’s stupid attempt to bring in a shrunken head, all straight boys are mentally inferior to him.

Draco sat down in his normal seat at the Slytherin Table, and waited silently as Slytherins filtered around him, all keeping a respectable distance from him. Draco didn’t know how it happened, but around fourth year he started to be known as the “Ice Prince” of Slytherin. Draco laughed at the name, he wasn’t a Prince. He was a King, a ruler. Draco believed there should be a crown on his head as he sat down at the Slytherin table. Perhaps he could “persuade” some of the Slytherin students to make him a crown… and a throne. He could easily do it himself, but what is the point of that?

Draco’s thoughts were interrupted as his boyfriend entered the Great Hall. Draco stared at Harry with an intense interest, laughing at himself as he thought about the ignorant Gryffindors who surrounded him. Dumbledore’s man through and through; that is how they must have thought about his Harry. But they are wrong, so wrong. Harry is no longer Dumbledore’s, he never really was. Draco was happy that Harry learned the truth about Dumbledore. He didn’t know how he could deal with Potter blindly following Dumbledore. He would probably kill their Dark Lord and marry the female Weasley. That thought disgusted Draco so much that he physically gagged and had to clear his throat. Luckily the doors of the Great Hall opened up, and it covered Draco’s noises.

Professor McGonagall led the sea of first years, the small children, the curious nervous faces looking around as they marveled at the grandness of the Great Hall. Draco wondered idly how many of the first years were mud—muggleborns. Draco turned his attention to the Sorting Hat as the old patchy hat sat lifelessly on the three-legged stool. The first years stopped in front of the stool, lined up perfectly in two rows. Professor McGonagall moved towards the sorting hat and stood by it as a rip appeared at the brim of the hat. Sorting Hat sprung into life, and begun to sing.

Draco did not pay attention to the hat’s song as he looked at the first years. They were mostly bland-looking to Draco. Just a sea of brown-haired to black-haired children that just stared intently at the hat as it sung. His eyes then moved towards Harry, and spent the rest of the time looking at Harry, different visions and scenarios floating through his mind. He wondered how his Harry would looked pregnant… Draco thought he would like that, seeing the Gryffindor walking around with a stomach that swelled, a constant reminder of Draco making Harry “his.” Though, Draco had to admit to himself, it was both dangerous and idiotic to get Harry pregnant now. Not only were it extremely dangerous to even consider getting Harry pregnant right now, but more importantly they were also only sixteen years old. Draco did not want to grow up extremely fast to raise a child; he wanted to enjoy his childhood still.

_The road ahead will twist_

_So make sure you never swerve_

_You will give them the unsung hero they deserve_

_Hogwart’s is in danger, her foes on many sides_

_The Houses much pull together in order to survive_

_My warning is now said and done_

_So with that let’s have the sorting begun!_

The hall clapped politely. Draco knew that there was no way the four Houses would band together to fight against a common enemy; the Slytherins would rather die than work with the Gryffindors and vice versa. Not that Draco cared; he already had his Gryffindor the rest could sod off. He looked at Blaise and saw that he too was staring at Harry.

Professor McGonagall unrolled the piece of parchment with the First year’s names and said, “When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and—“

The side door opened up as Hagrid shuffled in, muttering apologies. All attention briefly turned onto the half-giant as he made his way towards his seat and sat down. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat again and said, “When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and the Sorting Hat will sort you into your houses. Ashford, Adrian.”

A small boy removed himself from the crowd of first years. Draco watched the boy, black hair dull blue eyes, as he troubled himself getting on the stool.

“Look at that,” Parkinson sneered. “Probably a mudblood.”

As soon as Ashford finally got onto the seat, his knobby legs shaking form nerves, the Sorting Hat covered his entire head as Professor McGonagall placed it on him. The hall laughed softly at the childish sight. The hat stayed quiet.

“He’s probably trying to beg the hat to not put him in Hufflepuff,” Nott chuckled, earning him a giggle from Parkinson. Draco just threw the two of them an annoyed look.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat yelled out.

Ashford’s face paled as the hat was removed. Nobody cheered. Draco looked around the Slytherin table, they were all glaring at the poor boy, as if daring to ask why a mudblood was chosen to join them. Ashford was still on the stool, his face drained of any blood as he just stared at the offending table. Professor McGonagall needed to guide him off of the stool, and as the kid was walking by Professor Slughorn clapped politely, his fat hands echoing throughout the entire hall.

“What the hell are they thinking? Letting a mudblood in our House?” Parkinson sneered. “I should burn that Hat.”

“Better yet, burn the boy with him,” Nott offered.

“Shut up,” Draco hissed. He looked at Ashford, his silver eyes meeting dull blue, and asked “Are you a muggleborn?”

The kid nodded timidly, biting his lip. Draco turned towards the sixth years near him and glared at them, silently demanding them to move. They did fearfully, Parkinson looking offended as Draco motioned for the kid to sit down next to him. “What is your name?” He asked.

“Adrian, Adrian Ashford,” Ashford said.

“Draco Malfoy,” Draco said. “Sit down.”

Ashford did timidly and looked up at Draco, “I’m not supposed to be here… he told me that this is where all bad wizards go. I don’t want to be a bad wizard—“

“We don’t want you mudblood,” a Slytherin across of them sneered. Draco gave them a long, cold stare before saying softly, “Move down so that I don’t have to see any of you.”

Ashford watched in amazement that the entire Slytherin table seemed to move away from Draco Malfoy and himself, leaving a clear view for him, Draco, and the other boy. “Now, who was it that told you about Slytherin?” Draco asked

“He did,” Ashford said, pointing to a tallish boy with blonde hair. “I uh met him on the train. I told him my dads—parents don’t have magic and he started warning me about Slytherin.”

“I see,” Draco said nodding. He made sure that no one else was listening into them, relieved to see that the rest of Slytherin Table “Stick with me kid, and I’ll make sure these idiots never bother you. They all hate muggles and muggleborns.”

“Are you…”

“No, I’m pureblood, same as Blaise here,” Draco said, pointing to Blaise. “I’ll explain in more detail later, but there are three types of wizards pureblood, who don’t have muggle blood in them, half-blood who have muggle blood from one side, and muggleborn which is you, whose parents are muggles. You said you have dads right?”

“Yeah they adopted me,” Ashford nodded. Draco frowned. “I’m guessing your friend told you not to mention them as well?”

“Yes.” Ashford frowned.

“Good. Don’t,” Draco whispered. “The witches and wizards here, they’re backwards. They don’t like people like us or your dads. You can only talk about them to the people I tell you to, okay? That way you’ll be safe.”

“Okay… but who are they?”

“Me and Blaise, obviously,” Draco said. “And also Harry, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Draco pointed to Harry over by the Gryffindor table.

“That’s Harry Potter!” Ashford said instantly. The nearby Slytherins glared at him, but his voice was drowned by the Hufflepuffs cheering for their newest member.

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “If you absolutely need to, and cannot find us, talk to him.”

“Thanks… this is really kind of you Draco,” Ashford said. Draco just nodded and muttered, “Don’t mention it.”

“But, if I can ask, why are the rest of the Slytherins afraid of you?”

Draco turned to look down at the small boy and gave him a cocky smirk. “Didn’t your friend tell you? I’m their King.”

Ashford blushed and turned to the sorting, his nerves gone as he knew he sat down next to Slytherin’s King. He watched with a faint curiosity, not paying attention to the names Professor McGonagall called until finally he heard his friend’s name. “Warbeck, Charles.”

“That’s him,” Ashford whispered, pointing to the tall blonde kid walking up to the stool. Draco turned and watched as the kid sat easily. His head was biggish, and the hat barely covered his eyes as Professor McGonagall lowered the hat on him.

“Finally, he’s the last one,” Blaise yawned. “I’m starving.”

Draco ignored him, watched the sorting as again the hat sat on the kid for only a moment before yelling, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause as Warbeck jumped off of the stool and joined his fellow lions. Draco clapped politely along with Ashford, though he looked a bit sadden. “Looks like we can’t be friends, does it?” he asked Draco.

Instead of answering his question, Draco simply pointed at Harry and said, “Look at Harry Potter. We’re both in Gryffindor and Slytherin yet we’re dating.”

Adrian Ashford simply looked at Draco for a minute before smiling again. Draco glanced at the staff table, expecting Dumbledore to say something, but instead the old man remained seated as the golden platters on all four tables magically appeared with food. “Woah!” Adrian gasped, his slender hands reaching the nearest plate. Blaise chuckled and shook his head. “What’s so funny?” Draco asked.

“What? You’re not amused by the first years’ surprise?” Blaise chuckled.

“Sentimental fool,” Draco muttered before filling his plate. “So, Adrian, tell me about your life.”

 

Harry looked at the small boy sitting next to Draco. He leaned over to Ron and whispered, “Is the name Ashford familiar to you?”

“No, not that I know of,” Ron said, between bites of mashed potatoes.

“Honestly Ron, at least swallow some of your food before speaking,” Hermione said before looking at Harry. “I don’t think Ashford is a pure-blood, that name isn’t listed in the records. And by the way the table was silent, I don’t think he’s half-blood either.”

“So he’s muggleborn,” Harry said. “Poor kid.”

“I wonder why Malfoy allowed him to sit next to him,” Hermione said. “You would think that Malfoy being Malfoy he would be the first one to insult the boy.”

Ron swallowed and said, “Maybe he had a change of heart.”

“This is Malfoy we’re talking about Ron,” Hermione said. “It would be more likely that he would snog the Fat Lady.”

“Still, people change,” Harry said. “Maybe something happened that made him change his mind. You see the way he practically barked at Parkinson?”

“Yeah, that was weird… aren’t they dating?” Hermione asked.

“Not that I heard of,” Ron shrugged.

“No, I can say he definitely isn’t dating that pug,” Harry said, leaving no room for argument. Hermione looked like she was going to say something else, but decided against it.

When the feast was over, the remaining food disappeared and Harry looked up towards the Slytherin table. That small kid was still with Draco, Harry forgot the name, but for some reason he seemed familiar. Harry didn’t have much time to think about it, however, as Dumbledore stood up to address the hall.

“What happened to his hand?” Hermione gasped. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Dumbledore’s right hand was as blackened and dead-looking as it had been on the night he had come to fetch Harry from the Dursleys.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered, glancing over towards Draco. He had a feeling that either Draco or Blaise would be informing Voldemort about the fact.

“Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you. …Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items brought at the shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of Houses as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

“We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn”—Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waist coated belly casting the table below into shadow—“is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”

“Potions?”

“ _Potions?_ ”

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right. Confused, Adrian Ashford looked at Draco, who held a same confused look.

“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore said, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“No!” Harry said so loudly that many heads, including Adrian and Draco, turn in his direction.

“Is this a bad thing?” Adrian asked Draco.

“Well… Professor Snape was the Potions masters for the last five years,” Draco said pointing at their Head of House, who merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement of the applause from the Slytherin table. “It’s surprising to hear that Slughorn is replacing him as Potions master and he move to Defense.”

“Really?” Adrian frowned. He looked over at the Gryffindor table. “And they don’t like that right?”

“No, they don’t,” Draco said.

“The Gryffindors hate Snape, especially Harry,” Blaise told Adrian. “But don’t worry, you don’t need to worry about any of that, alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I guess…” Adrian said, looking at the staff table. “Will he care that I’m not a—“

“No I’m sure he won’t care,” Draco said. “You’re a Slytherin first and foremost. He’s a bit bias in our favor.”

“Oh… that’s good!” Adrian smiled.

“Shut it,” Nott whispered a bit harshly at the first year. “Dumbledore’s speaking.”

“—to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them—in particular the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety.”

“I can see something suspicious,” Draco heard Nott mutter to Parkinson and the trolls, “there’s a mudblood in Slytherin and he’s sitting next to Draco.”

The others snickered as Draco just gave him a sharp look.

“But now,” Dumbledore finished, “your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!”

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Draco and Blaise stuck together with Adrian following along as their shadow separated from the rest of the first year Slytherins. Draco and Blaise paid him little mind, deciding to just silently escort the small new Slytherin towards the dungeons. The other Slytherins didn’t complain or say anything openly, but Draco still knew that they were throwing glares his way. He did not like that one bit. It only showed that they forgotten who was in truly in charge in Slytherin.

“When we come into the common room, sit down next to me,” Draco instructed Adrian. The first year just nodded and kept close to the two sixth years. Draco smirked as thoughts came through his mind. Perhaps it was about time for his throne.

The Slytherin common room was bathed in an eerie green glow, the torches on the wall alit with green flames. There was a wide fireplace with a black mantle, skulls integrated with the design. Adrian frowned at the environment. It was cold, sinister feeling. There was no way he’s expected to live in here for seven years right?

Draco and Blaise didn’t seem to be affected by the cold environment as they made their way towards the fireplace, Draco’s wand out. “ _Incendio,_ ” Draco said lazily, the fireplace striking to life as a great roaring flame went ablaze. He turned towards the Slytherins coming in and glared at them. “Seventh years,” he commanded.

The seventh years Slytherins stopped hesitantly as they looked at Draco. The rest of the Slytherins started to go about their business, but Draco stopped them. “Everyone, stop what you are doing and listen. Who am I?”

“The Ice Prince,” a second year answered.

Draco through the student a glare. “No, I am not,” Draco said, his voice deepening as he turned his glare towards the entire Slytherin body. “I am not your ‘Prince’ you stupid imbeciles. I am your King! And a king, needs a throne. Tell me Adrian, do you see a throne anywhere?”

Adrian jumped in shock, looking at Draco in surprise before shaking his head, “No. No I don’t Draco.”

“Shame. How are we supposed to sit without a throne?” Draco mused. He looked around and saw the armchairs and coffee table that sat near the fireplace. “Seventh years, turn the armchairs into thrones. One fit for a king like me, and two others.”

The seventh years looked at Draco for a moment before doing as they told, stepping towards the armchair, wands out, and waved them in desynchronized movements. The normal armchairs that once stood there levitated off of the floor, before shaping themselves, what looked like gold appearing as the chair’s backs extended towards the air. The cushions seemed very comfortable to Adrian as the now three thrones returned to the ground, the biggest of the three in the center.

Draco smirked at the golden thrones and walked towards them, brushing his hand along the arms and cushions. “This will do I guess,” he said, sitting down and crossing his right leg over his left. “Blaise, these are comfortable, I guess. Why not sit down?” Draco said to Blaise. His friend nodded and sat down next to him.

“You’re right, these are comfy. Good job seventh years,” Blaise said, looking at the Seventh years.

Pansy Parkinson stepped up to Draco, a strange glint in her eyes. “Since you are now the King apparently,” she said. “I believe that makes me Slytherin’s queen, correct?” she asked, walking towards the remaining seat.

“Of course not, you disgusting pug,” Draco sneered. “That chair is not for some stupid ‘queen.’ It is far too ornate for some vile thing like you. This seat is for Adrian.”

“What!? That mudblood! No way,” Parkinson argued.

“Yes.” Draco said. “Since you all enjoy the title ‘Ice Prince’ so much, I’ve decided that you’ll call Adrian here that for now on. If you don’t like it, please tell me now. I’ll make sure to listen to your woes… _personally_.”

There was an icy chill that went through the Slytherin common room. The students seemed to move away from Draco, shaking their heads in submission as Draco smirked over them. Adrian felt the coldness, and instead of being scared he felt… weird. Good weird. Draco looked at him, silver eyes meeting dull blue, and he motioned for Adrian to come to him. The small boy did, and took his place next to Draco, sitting in the throne.


	8. Slughorn's Classes

Chapter VIII

Slughorn’s Classes

Adrian Ashford woke early the next morning. His other first year boys were still sleeping, so Adrian moved silently as he changed into his Slytherin clothes, frowning at the small green snake crest that laid on his breast. When the muggleborn made sure he had his wand, he made his way down into the common room where the three thrones still sat.

The small child edged slowly towards the thrones, his hand shaking as he reached towards the smallest one. He still couldn’t comprehend what happened. He’s a wizard, something to separate him from his adopted fathers, and not only that he was also in a different House then his only friend, Charlie Warbeck, but he was in the house that Charlie specifically warned him about. Adrian hugged his arms around his chest as he stared at the chair, frowning.

Lost to his thoughts, the first year didn’t notice the teenager coming down the steps. “What you doing here?” a harsh voice demanded.

Scared, Adrian jumped and turned around, seeing Theodore Nott standing by the arched stairway. “Sorry?” Adrian asked.

“I asked what are you doing here,” Nott said, moving from the stairway and towards the thrones where Adrian stood, sitting in the middle one. “I mean, you’re not a half-blood, and you’re definitely not a pureblood. How did you get into Slytherin?”

I—I don’t know,” Adrian said.

Nott frowned at that. “Who are your parents?” he asked.

“My dads, Victor and Peter,” Adrian said. Nott frowned and shook his head. “Not your adopted parents, muggleborn. I mean your real parents. Your mother and father.”

Adrian frowned and his head fell, his body slumping into the smallest throne. “I don’t know,” he said sadly. “I used to live in an orphanage. I don’t know my true parents, my mum or dad left me there when I was a baby. I stayed there until I was five and Dad and Daddy adopted me.”

“I see…” Nott nodded, his arms crossed as he examined the small Slytherin. There was a small frown on sixth year’s face, and Adrian watched confused as the older boy thought. “Maybe,” Nott said after a long time, “maybe you are not a muggleborn. Maybe one of your parents, your true parents, were a witch or wizard.”

“Dad and Daddy are my true parents,” Adrian Ashford said, frowning. “And why are you so concern about me being a muggleborn?”

“Because there are no muggleborns in Slytherin!” Nott said passionately. “There never was, and there never will be.”

Adrian frowned at that. He didn’t understand the wizards’ obsession with blood. “Does it really matter that much?” the small boy asked.

“Yes, it does,” Nott said. “It goes back to the House’s founding. I can’t even imagine what Slytherin would do if he learned there’s a muggleborn in his House.”

“He would probably roll in his grave,” another voice said. “But who cares, he’s dead.”

Nott and Adrian turned to see Draco walking perfectly into the common room, the Slytherin King raising an eyebrow at Nott who was still in his throne. “Good morning Adrian, Theo.”

“Morning,” both boys muttered.

“Why are you talking about Slytherin and muggleborns?”

“I was just telling Ashford here that there never was a muggleborn in Slytherin, it’s nearly impossible for one to be in Slytherin,” Nott said. “He has to have some magical blood somewhere in him.”

Draco shrugged and sat down in the remaining throne. “That, or Adrian here is the impossible. You said so yourself, it’s only nearly impossible.”

“Yes but, even so it’s highly improbable. Adrian told me he doesn’t know his tru—birth parents. It’s entirely possible that one of them was a witch or wizard”

Adrian frowned. “Who cares,” he insisted. “My Dad and Daddy are my parents. They adopted me from the orphanage, that’s all that matters.”

“And you’re right,” Draco nodded. “That is all that matters. Right Nott?”

“Yes,” Theodore agreed. “But still the others will question it.”

“And I will handle that when it comes,” Draco said. He turned his attention towards the small Slytherin and frowned. “And you, Adrian I told you not to tell anyone about your fathers.”

“Sorry Draco,” Adrian said, his cheeks flushed with disappointment and embarrassment. “It just slipped out.”

Draco gave the first year a stern look but nodded. “Very well,” he said. He turned to Nott and said, “Theodore, you know that his parents will have to be kept a secret correct? I don’t know your stance on this, but if I hear you utter a word about it—“

“I won’t Draco,” Theo said, leaning back in the throne, “you can trust me.”

“Not with Draco’s chair,” Adrian muttered with a shy smile.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re in your King’s chair!” Adrian said.

Draco laughed and smirked at Nott. “Well, he’s right Theodore. You’re in your King’s chair. You should listen to your little Prince and stand up.”

“Whatever,” Nott said, getting up. “I was about to go to the Great Hall before Pansy wakes up. I want to get my schedule early.”

“When do you get them?” Adrian asked, curious.

“Professor Snape,” Nott said. “He’ll hand us our schedules during breakfast.”

Adrian nodded and asked, “What type of classes am I going to take? Dad and Daddy helped me with the shopping and I barely looked at my list.”

“Well, you’re only a first year so you’ll be taking the basic classes,” Draco explained, deciding to sit in his proper seat. “So that’s Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Astronomy. The last one is a bit tiring because it’s the only class late at night. Also you’ll be taking flying lessons, that’s mandatory for all first years where you learn how to fly a broom.”

“Who knows, if you’re good enough you might replace Draco as Seeker on Quidditch,” Nott chuckled.

“Quidditch?” Adrian asked confused, his head overwhelmed with the information.

“The best sport in the world,” Draco said. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to love it soon enough. Now come on, I’m hungry.”

“Yes Draco,” Adrian said. King and Prince stood together and followed Nott as he led them out of the Slytherin common room.

“Did you read any of your school books?” Nott asked, looking back at his Ice Prince.

“A bit… I flipped through some of them at home,” Adrian said. “I remember in that uhh Potions book there was a boils potion!”

“Cure for boils,” Draco nodded. “That is a very easy one, I could make that easily in my sleep.”

“It is?” Adrian said a bit hopeful.

“You are also a master at potions, Draco,” Nott said, Adrian’s hopeful smile deflating. “Don’t worry kid, you’ll do fine though.”

The three boys walked the halls of the dungeons, Adrian feeling a slight chill through his robes as he rubbed his arms with his hands. “How do you guys survive with this cold?” he asked.

“What cold?” Draco asked.

“The dungeon,” Adrian frowned. “It’s freezing! Wait—umm are there any snakes in Hogwarts? Like the animal snake?”

“No, I don’t think so, why?” Nott asked.

“I’m umm… I’m afraid of them,” Adrian admitted.

“Really? Why?” Nott asked as they started to climb the staircase.

“When I was young, a garden snake bit me,” Adrian said. “And one time at the zoo, Daddy and I were in the reptile house and this _huge_ snake just jumped at the glass when we passed by!” Adrian’s hands stretched outward to try and show the immense side of the Incredible Deadly Viper that scared him.

“Well I wouldn’t blame you,” Draco said. “I admit that I find the creatures slightly creepy as well. I like them more when they’re just a crest I wear than a slithering thing.”

They reached the foot of the stairs and walked the small distance to the Great Hall. The doors opened before them and Adrian looked around the Great Hall. The room looked bigger with so few students in it, the empty tables stretching the rooms as the trio made their way to the farthest left table. They were the first Slytherins to sit at the table, and Adrian immediately helped himself to eggs and sausage. Draco and Theo got themselves coffee as Adrian reached for pumpkin juice.

“When is Professor… Snape going to give us our schedules?” Adrian asked.

“When the rest of the Slytherins come here,” Draco answered simply. Adrian just nodded and looked up at the enchanted ceiling. It was a serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows.

The rest of the school filtered into the Great Hall and soon it was filled with the crowded noise of numerous conversations. Blaise sat next to Adrian, the first year flanked by Draco and Blaise on his sides, and Adrian noticed that both of them were staring at Harry Potter. He too glanced at the Gryffindor Table, frowning when he saw Charlie Warbeck talking with other first years. “Are we still friends?” he asked himself.

After they finished breakfast, Draco told Adrian to stay seated as the Heads of Houses swept down from the staff table towards their House tables, scrolls in hand. Adrian watched as Professor Snape moved from student to student, giving them their schedules. The distributions for schedules were more complicated for Draco and Blaise, as Professor Snape needed first to confirm that they had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s. Adrian just stared blankly in confusion as Professor Snape discussed with Draco.

“Potions… Charms… Defense Against the Dark Arts, good, … Ancient Runes, Transfigurations, Herbology… and Arithmancy… Everything is perfect Draco,” Snape said, touching his wand to a blank scroll before handing it to Draco. Draco just nodded, but kept seated.

Snape moved next to Adrian, his black eyes staring down at the first year. “I suppose your new friends have told you,” Snape began. “But you will obviously be taking the basic courses. Do not be a dunderhead like some students I know.” His eyes shifted towards Crabbe and Goyle, who sat down farther away from Snape.

Draco leaned towards Adrian and whispered in his ear, “They’ve failed most of their O.W.L.s.”

“What are O.W.L.s” Adrian asked as Professor Snape went over Blaise’s schedule.

“Ordinary Wizard Level exams,” Draco explained. “Don’t worry, you’ll be taking them in fifth year.”

Adrian nodded and looked at his schedule. “I have Potions first—with Charlie!” he said happily.

“Yeah, Slytherins and Gryffindors always seem to have the same classes for some reason,” Draco nodded.

Adrian nodded and looked again at his schedule. “It’s in the dungeons?”

“Yes,” Blaise nodded, Snape done with his schedule. “Don’t worry, it’s easy to find.”

“Yes, well I have to go to Ancient Runes,” Draco said standing up. “Blaise, why don’t you show Adrian where the Potions classroom is?”

“Yes sir, your majesty,” Blaise smirked, a snicker escaping his lips. Draco rolled his eyes and left the Slytherin table, Nott following him. Blaise turned to Adrian and smiled. “So my cute little prince, when shall we go?”

“Umm it says the class starts in ten minutes,” Adrian said. Blaise nodded and looked towards the Gryffindor table, seeing that Harry and Ron were leaving it. “Then why not now? Come on.”

Blaise stood up and waited for Adrian to stand. The other Slytherins through sharp looks at the muggleborn as he followed Blaise. “Umm do you have class now?” he asked meekly.

“No, I’m on break,” Blaise said. “Don’t worry about it.” Blaise and Adrian left the Great Hall, Blaise glaring at the Slytherins who stared at Adrian. The two went down the stairs to the dungeons, Adrian feeling the same coldness as before, and the two turned away from the corner that led to the Slytherin Dungeon and into a series of corridors with many doors. Blaise turned a corner, Adrian following, and they both stopped at a door where some first year Slytherins and Gryffindors were already waiting.

“Well Adrian, here you go,” Blaise said. “See ya later.”

“Thank you Blaise,” Adrian said softly, waving his hand as he watched Blaise leave. He turned around and gave a small smile when he saw Charlie. “Charlie,” he said, stepping up to the small blonde boy.

The Gryffindor looked down at Adrian, an unreadable expression on his face. “Charlie!” Adrian said worried, “Charlie, talk with me.”

“I see you’ve adjusted to Slytherin life already,” Charlie said jealousy. Adrian frowned at that.

“Adjusted? Charlie, I hate it! Draco and Blaise are the only ones who are nice to me! You want to know what—“ Adrian looked at the first boys Slytherins and stepped closer to Charlie. “You want to know what they’ve done to me?” he whispered, nodding his head towards the boys. “They call me ‘mudblood’ all the time and threaten to give me boils and other things! I hate being a Slytherin Charlie, believe me!”

The Gryffindor frowned. “Alright,” he said. “Sit with me then.”

“Thank you,” Adrian smiled, happy that his friend believed him.

The dungeon door opened up and Slughorn’s immense body stepped outside. “Welcome! Welcome first years!” Slughorn said happily. “Welcome to your first lesson at Hogwarts, yes come in—come in. Three to a table, yes, yes, hello, hello. Hello Ashford, nice to see you here,” Slughorn said to Adrian.

Adrian walked into the classroom and immediately went to the table Charlie was standing at, along with another Gryffindor who shot a confused look at Adrian. Charlie shrugged, and offered a smile at the small boy. Professor Slughorn squeezed through the middle aisle of the tables and made his way to the front of the dungeon. Vapors and odd smells filled the air as Adrian looked around, large, bubbling cauldrons filling the top of the classroom. Professor Slughorn looked at them all, his eyes roaming from one side of the room to the next as students took out their school books, _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

“Everybody has their textbooks, that is good—ah and I see everyone has their equipment as well, very good. Very, very good,” Slughorn said. “Welcome to Hogwarts, I think I should say again. I am here to teach you the finer points of potion-making. As such, there will be no silly wand-waving in my class, so wands away—yes, yes it is very saddening but next class I am sure you will be waving your wands all you want. Potions is a very precise and delicate subject… with the correct potions you can bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper to death. That is, if you all pay attention!”

Slughorn moved towards a chalkboard and tapped it with his wand, the chalk springing to life and writing on its own. “Now then, since this is our first lesson we will begin very easy today. My predecessor, Professor Snape, had kindly told me of his little quiz he liked to give to students on the first day. All answers you can easily find in the textbooks if you have read it before class. But where is the fun in answering questions, eh Mr. Ashford?”

Adrian jumped a little when Professor Slughorn threw the entire class’s attention onto him. “I don’t know sir,” he said.

“Exactly. So, open Magical Drafts and Potions to page six, and we will begin with the forgetfulness potion,” Slughorn said. “The first one who can successfully make one will receive thirty points for their houses. Time starts… now!”

The room burst into action as the eleven year olds all started running around, the sound of the tinkering of equipment and shuffling of pages filling the page. Adrian quickly opened his book and read out the ingredient. “Two drops of Lethe River Water, two Valerian sprigs, two measures of Standard Ingredient, and four mistletoe berries.”

He made his way quickly to the supply closet, squeezing past the taller first years, and quickly started looking for the ingredients he needed. Mistletoes were easy to find, as well as the sprigs and standard ingredient. But the vial of Lethe River Water he could not reach because of his short statue. Even on the tips of his toes, the water was just out of reach and the Slytherins watching him all snickered and pointed at his attempt.

Adrian felt a skinny body behind him, and smiled when he saw a hand reaching for the vial and giving it to him. He turned to see Charlie standing there, looking amused. “Thanks Charlie,” the muggleborn smiled.

“Welcome Adrian,” Charlie said, returning to their table. With ingredients in hand, Adrian followed him and looked at the book again, starting to create the potion.

Professor Slughorn walked around the classroom as the first years worked, stopping every now and then to talk with certain students. When he reached Adrian’s and Charlie’s table, he looked at both of them. “It seems times have changed from when I taught here,” Slughorn chuckled. “A muggleborn in Slytherin, and Gryffindor and Slytherin at the same table. Let’s see here… very nice Warbeck, yes the potion should be this shade of lilac. And Adrian here… ahh! Perfect! Look at that potion work everyone, we have the makings of a true natural!” Slughorn said.

“T-Thank you sir,” Adrian flushed.

Slughorn nodded and looked at Charlie. “Now, Mr. Warbeck, you couldn’t possibly be related to the singer Celestina Warbeck, would you?”

“She’s my aunt,” Charlie said nodding his head. “Though, she has the singing talent I’m afraid.”

“Oh I am sure,” Slughorn chuckled. “I’m a big fan of her myself, been to three of her concerts.” He turned to Adrian and looked down at him. “And you, never thought I would see a muggleborn in Slytherin. I’m expecting things from you Mr. Ashford. And from the looks of it, I will not be disappointed!”

Adrian nodded and continued to work on his potion. Slughorn moving onto the next group, his voice high as he berated a student who somehow melted his cauldron.

The class went by quickly for Adrian, as he found himself completely focusing on the potion, following the instructions to a T Charlie worked next to him, his brow sweaty as he scrunched them in concentration. When the hour was up, Slughorn said “Alright First years, hands up and potions ready! Let’s see who’ll get the thirty points.”

The First years looked around nervously. Adrian looked down at his cauldron, then at Charlie’s. They were both the same hue of faintly light red. Slughorn moved through the tables, not saying anything as he examined each and everyone, only giving hmms and hums. When he reached Adrian’s and Charlie’s table, he stopped and looked between their potions, frowning. “Both are the same hue! And correctly as well,” Slughorn stated. He looked at the two and said, “By Jove, both of you have made the potion perfectly! But who to award it too… there can’t be two winners.”

Slughorn looked between the two and looked at their potions again. After some consideration, he said, “Thirty points to Gryffindor! Well done Warbeck, well done. Of course Ashford, yours is good too.”

 

Harry Potter found himself in the same Potions room hours later. There was only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level Potions, including Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Blaise, and two other Slytherins, four Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillian, whom Harry liked despite his rather pompous manner.

The dungeon door opened and Slughorn’s belly preceded him out of the door. As they filled into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Harry, Blaise, and Draco with particular enthusiasm.

Harry took a table along with Ron, Hermione, and Ernie. They sat nearest a cauldron that emitted one of the most seduction scents Harry had ever inhaled: somehow it reminded him simultaneously of treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle, and something spicy he smelled in Draco’s bedroom. He found that he was breathing very slowly and deeply and that the potion’s fumes seemed to be filling him up like drink. A great contentment stole over him; he grinned across at Ron, who grinned back lazily.

“Now then, now then, now then,” Slughorn said. “Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don’t forget your copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_. …”

“Sir?” Harry said, raising his hand.

“Harry, m’boy?”

“I haven’t got a book or scales or anything—nor’s Ron—we didn’t realize we’d be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see—“

“Not to worry, McGonagall mentioned it. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I’m sure we can lend you some scales, and we’ve got a small stock of old books here, they’ll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. …”

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment’s foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_ , which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.

Slughorn smiled at the students and began to ask a serious of questions, pointing to the four potions he that filled the cauldrons around the classroom. As usual, Hermione answered each and every one. Slughorn stopped at the fourth and final potion, Felix Felicis. “And this is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson,” Slughorn said.

There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

“One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis,” Slughorn said, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. “Enough for twelve hours’ luck. From dawn till dusk you will be lucky in everything you attempt.

“Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions … sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only …and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!

“So,” Slughorn said, suddenly brisk, “how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!”

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Harry saw Draco riffling feverishly though his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Harry wondered why Draco wanted a lucky day so badly.

To Harry’s annoyance, he saw that the previous owner had scribbled all over the pages, so that the margins were as black as the printed portions. Bending low to decipher the ingredients, Harry hurried off toward the store cupboard to find what he needed. As he dashed back to his cauldron, Draco was already cutting up valerian roots as fast as he could.

Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Hermione, of course, seemed to have progressed furthest. Her potion already resembled the “smooth, black currant-colored liquid” mentioned as the ideal halfway stage.

Having finished chopping his roots perfectly, Harry bent down to read the book again, his irritation growing as the previous owner crossed out the instruction “cut up the sophophorous bean” and had written the alternative instruction:

_Crush with flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better than cutting._

The sopophorous bean was proving very difficult to cut, so Harry decided take out his silver dagger and just trust the previous owner. He crushed his bean with the flat side of the dagger, and to his amazement it immediately exuded so much juice he was amazed the shriveled bean could have held it all. Hastily scooping it all into the cauldron he saw, to his surprise, that the potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook.

His annoyance with the previous owner disappeared immediately, Harry now squinted at the next line of instructions. The owner instructed Harry to add a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.

The effect was immediate, the potion turning palest pink.

“How are you doing that?” Hermione demanded, who was red-faced and whose hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.

“Add a clockwise stir—“

“No, no, the book says counterclockwise!” she snapped.

Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing. Across the table, Ron was cursing fluently under his breath; his potion looked like liquid licorice. Harry glanced around. As far as he could see, no one else’s potion had turned as pale as his. He felt elated, especially when he saw Draco’s potion the same shade of purple as Hermione’s.

“And time’s …up!” Slughorn called. “Stop stirring, please!”

Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potion a stir or a sniff. At last he reached the table where Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ernie were sitting. He smiled ruefully at the tarlike substance in Ron’s cauldron. He passed over Ernie’s navy concoction. Hermione’s potion he gave an approving nod. Then he saw Harry’s, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

“The clear winner!” he cried to the dungeon. “Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are—one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket, feeling an odd combination of delight at the furious looks on the two Slytherin faces and quilt at the disappointed expression on Hermione’s. Ron looked simply dumbfounded.

“How did you do that?” he whispered to Harry as they left the dungeon.

“Got lucky, I suppose,” Harry said.

“Lucky? Please Harry, it’s all because of my tutelage,” Draco said, walking past the group.

“Yeah, well I’m not sure _all_ the credit should be yours,” Harry smiled, ignoring Hermione’s confused look.

“Harry,” she said shortly, completely disapproving his choice of friends.

“What you think I cheated?” Harry demanded.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly your own work, was it?” she said stiffly.

“He only followed different instructions to ours,” Ron said. “Could’ve been a catastrophe, couldn’t it? But he took a risk and it paid off.”

“You’re following different directions?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised perfectly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, digging into his bag for the textbook. Draco waited as Harry pulled out his barrowed copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ and gave it to his boyfriend. Draco took it and flipped through the pages, frowning. “He wrote practically everywhere,” Draco said, turning the page. “Alteration, explanations… it’s like he wrote a different textbook.” Going back to the beginning, Draco read “Property of the Half-Blood Prince.” Draco looked at Harry and gave him back the textbook. “You got very lucky indeed Harry… but I don’t want you to rely on it all the time. I did not spend a month teaching you Potions for nothing.”

“Okay Draco,” Harry agreed. Their hands touched as Draco gave him back his book, and he they smiled secretly as Draco grazed his finger against Harry’s hand.

“See you later Harry,” Draco said, leaving with Blaise.

“Yeah…”

He didn’t realize he was staring until he noticed Hermione’s stern expression. “What was that about Harry?” she asked.

“What?”

“That,” she said, pointing to where Draco once stood.

“We’re friends,” Harry said. “What? I can’t talk to Draco?”

“No but… the way you guys are talking to each other—and the staring, Harry there’s something weird with Malfoy,” Hermione said.

Harry ignored her and went to the Great Hall. Again he looked at the Slytherin table and frowned he saw that Adrian boy sitting next to Draco. He looked so familiar, even though he was sure he never saw the young Slytherin before. Maybe he should write to Voldemort about it. After all, the kid has Voldemort’s dead husband’s name, and he looks so familiar it couldn’t be just a coincidence.

For the first week’s Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince’s instructions, as well as the skills he’d learned from his boyfriend. Slughorn was raving about Harry’s abilities by the fourth lesson, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Hermione was not delighted by this, refusing to use the book when Harry offered. Draco, however, was amused as he watched Harry grow, smiling as his baby keep getting better and better. The two barely had any alone time, which Harry hated. He missed sleeping with Draco, feeling his body next to his as they sleep together. By the end of the week Harry had his first lesson with Dumbledore at eight. Harry left at seven twenty and went down to the dungeons.

He smiled when he saw Draco in the dungeons and ran into his arms, their lips connecting instantly as he submitted to Draco’s touches and lips. Harry moaned as Draco entered his mouth, their tongues dancing together as their bodies meld, Harry’s hands clawing at Draco’s back, needing more of him, needing more contact. “Draco,” he moaned. “Too long…”

“Yeah…” Draco moaned. “I missed kissing my baby.”

“Draco,” Harry chanted, pulling their bodies closer together.

“Come on Baby,” Draco said. “Follow me.”

Harry nodded and held Draco’s hand, allowing the Slytherin to lead him deeper into the dungeon. They’ve entered a room kissing, and Draco shoved Harry against the wall, his leg pushing Harry against it as they kissed. When they finished, both boys smiled at each other, their faces flushed, breaths heavy, and pants tight. Draco checked his watch and said, “We have ten minutes Harry.”

Harry nodded and looked at his boyfriend. “I don’t know what Dumbledore wants to show me during these lessons,” he said.

“It will be probably be something that’s supposed to help you fight against the Dark Lord,” Draco said. “It doesn’t matter though, what matters most is our operation.”

“You mean against Dumbledore?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Yes,” he said. “Didn’t you tell me that you brought a lot of pranks from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes?”

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said. “What are you thinking about?”

Draco smirked and said, “Well baby, how about this? We’ll begin with a bit of fun, letting off a prank here and there as we grow our ranks. So far, I know there are five of us on our side.”

“Five?”

“Yes, five. You, me, Blaise, Ronald, and little Adrian,” Draco said.

“Ohh… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him,” Harry said. “Adrian, I mean. Don’t you think it’s weird, like he looks so much like Voldemort’s dead husband? Same name also.”

“I know, it is a bit weird,” Draco nodded. “But for now I think it’s just a coincidence. Anyway, I feel sorry for him, the first muggleborn in Slytherin and the rest of the House is outcasting him. He needs someone to look after him, and Blaise and I are them.”

“So what, you’re saying is that you and Blaise are being his Magical Daddies,” Harry smirked.

“Is that jealousy I hear baby?” Draco teased.

Harry laughed and smiled. “What? You want me to call you ‘Daddy Draco’? As if!” Harry kissed Draco’s cheek and said, “I’m not stroking that ego Draco. Anyway, what are you planning of doing?”

“Pranks at first,” Draco said. “Cause mayhem at random as we systematically search for more guys like us. I’m positive there’s more than four in the entire castle. As we find more and more, we’ll need a place to meet up and talk about future plans and creating a safe space. As they work on whatever plans they think of, we two will work on taking Dumbledore out.”

Harry nodded, agreeing with the layout. “And in the meantime, I will attend to Dumbledore’s lessons and tell you what he is teaching me.”

“And if I deem it important enough, I’ll pass it along to the Dark Lord,” Draco said.

Harry looked worried at Draco. “I’m not working directly with my mentor. Remember Draco, I want to change the laws and we need Dumbledore for that.”

“I know my baby,” Draco said. “But for now we will work closely with your mentor.” He checked his watch and said, “You have five minutes Harry.”

“I better get going,” Harry said. “Good luck Draco.”

“Good luck to you, Harry,” Draco said. They’ve kissed once more and Harry left the room, beginning the way towards Dumbledore’s office.


	9. Certain Perspectives

Chapter IX

Certain Perspectives

The corridors were immense; the stone walls piled high onto each other, pictures hanged about and covering every space between windows. Light was pouring through the windows; the sun cast high on their arches as it slowly climbed towards noon; dust danced with the pictures, shuffling in the air as students far below crowded the halls and corridors. Adrian followed the crowd, his eyes moving from picture to picture as he watched their interactions. Witches and Wizards walked into and out of different portraits, knights moving into a scholar’s room as a drunken witch saunters into a meadow. Adrian watched with some amusement, for the first time in the week, alone. It was weird that he was alone. The entire week, he had been surrounded by people that hated him and liked him. He was called many names, many slurs, and was once even pushed down one of the stairs in the Grand Staircase.

His arms still hurt a bit, even after a visit to the hospital wing, but it was manageable. His dull blue eyes blinked as he followed the crowd of students into the entrance hall. It was lunch time, and the Great Hall was filling with students and staff. But instead of following the flow, Adrian turned away from the doors that led to the Great Hall, and instead started his way down the stairway towards the dungeon. With each step, Adrian’s body retracted from the noon-time sun, taking over by shadows as his steps started to silently echo throughout the dungeons, becoming more and more noticeable as he moved further away from the crowd. Under the shaded light of torches, Adrian silently made his way through the now familiar dungeon corridors, his eyes reflecting the flames as he looked for the specific door. The halls were silent, even his footsteps were surprisingly silent as Adrian turned several corridors, stopping at a door. He opened it, the door’s hinges moving smoothly to reveal a small room with a male in it. “Took you long enough Adrian,” the boy smiled.

Adrian smiled and said, “Sorry, I was caught up in something. So, is it true?”

“Of course it is,” Tom Riddle smiled. “Come here now.”

Adrian smiled as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him before taking his place in Marvolo’s arms. He leaned up and kissed his beloved. The two fifteen year olds smiled in the kiss, Adrian submitting to his Marvolo as Riddle pulled his robes off. Adrian moaned as Tom started to bite at his neck, leaving red marks everywhere. “M-Marvolo!” Adrian moaned, his voice hitching. “When you do it,” Adrian said “I want to be there. I want to watch you do it—ahh!” His voice hitched as Tom bit hard on a sensitive spot.

Tom smirk as he bit again, this time drawing a little blood. He lapped at the wound, loving the taste of his boyfriend, the sounds that he made, and his total and utter submission to him. He smirked down at Adrian, gently pushing the boy onto his knees, his finger brushing against Adrian’s waiting lips. “You want to watch me?” he repeated.

Adrian nodded. Tom smirked and again brushed his finger against Adrian’s plump lips. “I love you Adrian.”

“I love you too Marvolo,” Adrian said, his tongue darting out to lick Tom’s finger. Tom chuckled and allowed Adrian to suck his finger, pushing deep inside his mouth. “You’ll come with me Adrian, and afterwards, we will celebrate together. Understand?”

Adrian nodded, his lips and tongue still lapping and worshiping his boyfriend’s finger. Tom smirked at Adrian’s agreement and pulled his finger out of Adrian’s mouth. The small Slytherin whimpered at the lost but smiled as Tom’s hands started fumbling with his pants and buckle. “Alright love, before any of that, let’s have some fun before Professor Slughorn finds us.”

 

The cloaked man stretched his arms for a moment. He gave a soft groan and moved his jaw in circles, surprised how his voice isn’t getting raw from all the talking he have done. “One moment,” he growled at the small crowd in front of him, which now included adult witches and wizards who stopped by to listen to him as well as the children. He cleared his throat, reaching for a glass of water and letting his hood fall as he drank. There was a long, thin scar that ran from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. His hair was black and well-kept, shoulder-length and matching a small beard that covered his chin. As he drank, he kept his eyes closed, as if lost in thought as each gulp-full of water entered his throat. The crowd watched silently as the man drank, the only other sound being the twins who were still sipping from their teas to help their lost voices.

Once he finished his drink he placed the empty glass down on the wooden table he was sitting at and replaced his hood. “Excuse me, miss,” He said to the barmaid in the audience. “I’m sorry, but can I have another glass? This is a long story.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure,” the barmaid blushed as she stepped away from the other adult witches and wizards and moved through the children, reaching for the glass. The man smiled at her as he cleared his throat again.

“Sorry about that, thought this story would be shorter. Now… where are we again?” he asked the children.

Tommy Finnigan raised his hand and said, “Harry Malfoy is about to have his first meeting with Dumbledore!”

“Yes! That,” the man smiled. “I remember those. After every meeting he would tell his friends about it. At the beginning it was just Ron, Hermione, Blaise, and of course Draco he told. But eventually, he told me as well. I believe it was around the second or third meeting he had with Dumbledore he started telling me about them. Draco filled me in on the ones before that.”

“What were they doing?” Flint asked.

“They were looking at memories,” the man said. “Specifically, memories around the False Lord, You-Know-Who.”

“Why would they do that?” Sam asked. The man turned his attention to the girl and paused for a moment, as if he was trying to recall the reason.

“Let’s see here… ah yeah! They were looking into You-Know-Who’s past, of course Harry knew a more truer version of what happened, but still they were looking for something that would have helped Harry when he fights against Voldemort for Dumbledore’s side. Obviously though, that didn’t happen,” the man chuckled. “Otherwise this story would be taking a different turn.”

“What type of memories did they look at?” Hugo asked.

“For the first time, it was the memory of a man named Bob Ogden. He was an employer of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement a long time ago, way before You-Know-Who was born. He visited what was essentially the False Lord’s grandfather’s house. Why you may ask, well… Dumbledore wanted Harry to have a certain view on the False Lord’s ancestry. But there is one thing I need to tell you all. This is what happened when Harry first entered Dumbledore’s office.”

 

The office looked just as it always did; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames, and Dumbledore’s magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watch Harry with bright interest. Harry entered silently, the door hung ajar, and stopped as he heard the Headmaster muttering to himself. He was bent over several old spread out newspapers. “That boy… it cannot be. I admit the similarities is shocking …they look identical… even have the same name. …But he died years ago, it is impossible. Yet… they are in the same House. It has to be a coincidence. It has to be.”

Dumbledore looked up and smiled when he saw Harry. “Ah, Harry m’boy, I didn’t hear you come in. Yes, one moment, need to put a few things away before we begin.”

Harry nodded and watched as Dumbledore started to organize the newspapers. Was he talking about Adrian, Harry wondered. Adrian Balk, as well as Adrian Ashford. Harry had to admit that he was shocked and confused about the two Adrians. Voldemort had described his husband perfectly. Half-Blood with dull blue eyes, black hair, pale and very small for his age. Adrian Ashford was the exact same, except for being a muggleborn of course. Both boys were also in Slytherin. There were so many similarities that Harry couldn’t help but think about it. Could it be that Adrian Ashford be somehow related to the deceased Adrian Balk, Voldemort’s husband? Or maybe Ashford is a reincarnation of Balk himself? That would explain all the similar appearances, and didn’t Voldemort say that Balk was executed? Harry wondered if it was possible for reincarnations to work like that if they existed at all. No, it was too early for Harry to start making assumptions like that. He needed to know more about Adrian… both of them. He needed to know more about Adrian Ashford in general, not counting the brief description of Draco and Blaise being his “Magical Daddies” as Harry put it, and he also needed to know more about Adrian Balk’s life, more importantly his execution. Harry remembered that small fact although Voldemort just glazed it over. Why was he killed? Was it because of the Dark Arts, or was it because he was gay? Harry didn’t want to think about that now as he looked at the man who gave the order.

Once Dumbledore was done, he smiled at Harry. “You must have been busy, a dentention under your belt already!” he chuckled.

“Er,” Harry began awkwardly, but Dumbledore didn’t look too stern. It was strange, the quick change in tone.

“I have arranged with Professor Snape that you will do your detention next Saturday instead.”

“Right,” Harry said, who had more pressing matters on his mind than Snape’s detention, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what Dumbledore was planning to do with him this evening. It did not even look as though Dumbledore had cleared a space for dueling practice.

“So, Harry,” Dumbledore said, in a businesslike voice, “You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned for you during these—for want of a better word—lessons?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I have decided that it is time now that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you t obe given certain information.”

There was a pause. In his mind, Harry thought ‘Information that Voldemort already told me himself?’

“From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphery Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.”

“So we are going to be looking though people’s memories?” Harry asked.

“Yes, we are Harry,” Dumbledore nodded. “And before you ask, this has everything to do with the prophecy, and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive.”

Dumbledore stood to get the Pensieve. “This time, you enter the Pensieve with me…and, even more unusually, with permission,” Dumbledore said.

“Who’s memory is this, sir?” Harry asked.

“Bob Ogden’s memory,” Dumbledore said. “He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. After you, Harry.”

 

_“You are the ocean’s gray waves, destined to seek_

_Life beyond the shore just out of reach_

_Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time_

_The path is yours to climb_

_Embrace the dark you call a home,_

_Gaze upon an empty, white throne_

_A legacy of lies_

_A familiar disguise_

_Sing with me a song of conquest and fate_

_The black pillar cracks beneath its weight_

_Night breaks through the day, hard as a stone_

_Lost in thoughts all alone”_

“Where did you learn how to sing?”

Adrian jumped and turned to see someone standing by the doorway. He retreated to an empty classroom with a high window that looked out to the Black Lake. He wasn’t planning on being alone, or being caught, he just needed to find somewhere to be alone for a while.

“Well? A King shouldn’t wait for a Prince’s answer,” Draco Malfoy smirked as he entered the room, the door closing behind him. The room was small, an old classroom with the desks pushed to the side. Moonlight filtered in through the windows, and on a windowsill were two mugs of water. Adrian looked at him for a moment, his eyes tired and cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of being caught. Draco didn’t stop when he saw Adrian’s embarrassment. He just chuckled and continued moving forward.

“Nowhere,” Adrian said. “I just do.”

“Oh, then there must have been somewhere you learned that song,” Draco said, leaning against the window Adrian was looking out of moments ago.

Adrian shook his head and said, “I’ve learned it from no one. I just know it. My dads never singed it to me. Or did anyone else. I just… know it.”

“I see,” Draco nodded. “It sounds like a peculiar song to just know. Gray waves and everything like that.”

“I don’t know what it means,” Adrian said. “Never questioned it. The song just… comes to me, you know?” Both boys were silent. Draco continued leaned against the windowsill, looking at the small Slytherin curiously. Adrian met his look and frowned. “Why is everyone obsessed with me?” he asked. “I’m no one special. Just a muggleborn who got into Slytherin.”

“But there’s more to that, there has to be,” Draco said. “You said you don’t know your parents right? Well, it is a fact that no muggleborn has ever been sorted into Slytherin—“

“Because the founder hated us, I know,” Adrian said. “My roommates told me multiple times that Salazar hates muggleborns.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Who are they?” he demanded.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No it doesn’t Draco,” Adrian said. “I’m tired of all you people talking about muggleborn this, half-blood that, pureblood nonsense. It’s so stupid! You know? Honestly. It does not matter to me Draco, I don’t care who my mother and father are. They’ve left me at an orphanage when I was a baby, and now I have my Daddies. I don’t need anyone else.”

Draco stayed quiet. Adrian just stared annoyingly at the older Slytherin for a while, his arms crossed in a tired way, his back arching forward slightly as his eyes drifted down Draco’s body before falling onto his shoes. Bit his lip, Adrian just stood there, back bent, eyes looking at Draco’s shoes, a stubbornness arising as he continued to look. Draco didn’t say anything. Both boys said nothing, both boys staying still; Draco’s solid frame leaning against the windowsill, the moon’s pale light beaming down onto his body, his platinum-blonde hair seemingly glowing as he waited for his underclassman to speak. Adrian didn’t. The air around them seemed to thicken, both bodies still as a draft intruded from the door behind.

Then, finally, Draco moved, ruining the picturesque moment of upperclassman and underclassman. He moved away from the windowsill and walked past Adrian, who was still staring at where Draco was. “Alright then,” Draco said simply. “Keep singing.”

Adrian heard the door closed behind him and turned around. He was alone again. He sighed and took out his wand. “ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ” he muttered, pointing his wand at the mugs of water. Instead of them all raising altogether, the mugs shook a little as the water lifted from out of them, some spilling over the sides as the others formed together into a mass of water. Moonlight went through the water, making it twinkle and shine as it splashed and moved in the air. Water was always easier for Adrian to practice magic on for some reason.

_“You are the ocean’s gray waves destined to seek_

_Life beyond the shore just out of reach_

_Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time_

_The path is yours to climb”_

“What happened to the girl in the cottage?” Harry said at once as he and Dumbledore returned to his office. They have witnessed Bob Ogden’s memory, Harry watching as a family of Parselmouths spoke openly in front of Ogden before one of them, Morfin, tried to hit a girl named Merope for looking at a muggle boy.

“Oh, she survived,” Dumbledore said, reseating himself behind his desk and indicating that Harry sit down too. “Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcement within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage, and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogen received six months.”

“Marvolo? You mean that old man was—“

“Voldemort’s grandfather, yes,” Dumbledore said. “Marvolo, his son, Morfin, and his daughter, Merope, were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient Wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking of grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born.”

“So Merope… was Voldemort’s mother,” Harry said. Dumbledore was about to say something, but Harry interrupted, continuing his train of thought. “Then that means the muggle, the handsome one who went by in that carriage, he was Voldemort’s father!”

“That is correct, Harry,” Dumbledore nodded.

“She must have jinxed him yeah? There is no way they would have married normally,” Harry continued on, ignoring the shocked look on Dumbledore’s face.

“Again, correct. Merope is a witch. It is easy enough to think she used a love potion to seduce Tom Riddle Sr. In any case, within a few months of the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire’s son ran off with the tramp’s daughter, Merope. But the village’s shock was nothing to Marvolo’s. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal ready on his table. Instead he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done. From all I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death—or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo, and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage.”

Harry nodded and looked at Dumbledore’s desk. It was then that he noticed the ring that Dumbledore was once wearing. It was an ugly gold ring set with a large, cracked, black stone. He recognized it immediately as the ring Marvolo was wearing. “Sir—that ring. You were wearing it on our visit to Slughorn. And it’s the exact ring Marvolo showed Ogden.”

“It is, the very same,” Dumbledore nodded.

“But how come—? Have you always had it?”

“No, I acquired it very recently,” Dumbledore said. “A few days before I came to fetch you from your aunt and uncle’s, in fact.”

“That would be around the time you injured your hand, then, sir?”

“Around that time, yes, Harry.”

Harry hesitated. “Sir… is it okay if I tell Ron and Hermione?”

“Yes, I think Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have proved themselves trustworthy. But Harry, I am going to ask you to ask them not to repeat any of this to anybody else. It would not be a good idea if word got around how much I know, or suspect, about Lord Voldemort’s secrets.”

“No, sir, I’ll make sure it’s just Ron and Hermione. Good night,” Harry lied. He left Dumbledore’s office, walking down the spiral staircase, and immediately started looking for Draco.

He found him, not surprisingly, in the dungeons. Draco was patrolling the corridors, his wand held high, it’s tip lit as he looked for students out of bed. He smirked at Harry and said, “And what is the baby doing out of bed?”

“Looking for his boyfriend,” Harry said. His arms quickly wrapped around Draco’s shoulders and leaned up to kiss him, smiling.

“How was it?”

“Horrible,” Harry said. “I was sure he would have caught on several times that I knew more about my mentor’s past than he does.”

Draco chuckled. “I’m sure my baby was smart enough to trick the old man, correct?”

Harry nodded and rested his head gently on Draco’s chest, his arms sliding down to hug his waist.

“So, what did the old coot teach you?” Draco whispered.

“Nothing, really. We are going to look at memories about Voldemort,” Harry explained. “Tonight we began by looking at Voldemort’s mum and her family.”

“I bet they were loving,” Draco muttered.

Harry giggled and said, “I wouldn’t put it that way. They lived in this horrible place, their family fortune left to nothing before Marvolo, Voldemort’s grandfather, was even born. They were very… inbred, marrying only close cousins to keep the Slytherin blood pure, I guess. They all spoke Parseltongue. But there was a weird thing. Marvolo showed this Ministry guy this ring, gold and a black stone, but that ring is also in Dumbledore’ office right now, the stone cracked. And also he was wearing it before!”

“That is very strange,” Draco said. “Are you going to talk to the Dark Lord about it?”

“I don’t know… but there is one thing that’s bothering me.”

“Let me guess, Adrian?” Draco smirked.

“How did you know?” Harry asked.

“Because he’s been bothering me a bit as well,” Draco said. “He’s so much like Adrian Balk, isn’t he?”

Harry looked at Draco shocked for a moment before nodding. “From what Voldemort had told me, yes. Yes he does.”

Harry looked at Draco for a moment. “Should we tell him… about Adrian?”

Draco looked down at Harry. Both boys were silent, lost in thoughts, before Draco said “No. No I think we should keep this to ourselves for now. Cause who knows, Adrian might be telling the truth and actually just be a muggleborn.”

“You’re right,” Harry admitted. “I’ve never thought of that before.”

Draco smiled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Come on Harry, we need to go to bed. My shift’s just about done.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, but one more kiss. I still miss sleeping with you.”

“Of course Harry,” Draco smirked, he bent down and pulled Harry into his embrace again. They kissed fully, their attention focusing on each other as the corridors around them seemed to vanish.

“Fags!” Someone sneered, ruining their kiss. They jumped away from each other, wands drawn as they turned to face their intruder. Millicent Bulstrode stood in front of them, her fact fact stuck in a hideous sneer as she glared at them. Her large, square build was blocking the corridor as she glared at them. “Icky pixies! What are you doing here?”

“What’s it to you Bulstrode?” Draco demanded.

“Malfoy? Malfoy that you? What you doing here with that fag?”

“Don’t you dare,” Draco sneered, his wand aimed at Bulstrode. “Don’t make me stun you.”

Bulstrode laughed. “Just you wait till I tell Pansy and the others, Malfoy! You’re going to be the laughing stock of the school! You and Potter!”

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry yelled. The red stunner jetted from his wand and hit the huge teenage girl in the middle of her chest. Bulstrode fell to the ground, her body slumping to the floor, her fat face having a dazed look.

“That’s one way to deal with this,” Draco sighed. “What are we going to do?”

“Simple, wipe her memory,” Harry said. He walked over towards the unconscious body of Millicent Bulstrode. He pointed his wand at her head and muttered, “ _Obliviate._ ” The pale green haze surrounded Bulstrode’s head and gently fazed into her, the memory of her seeing Harry and Draco disappearing.

Draco gave a short whistle, “The Dark Lord teach you that trick Harry?”

“Yeah, didn’t I already told you that?” Harry asked.

“It’s one thing to hear about it baby, but another to see it,” Draco said. He looked down at Harry’s handiwork and smiled. “It looks you did brilliant Harry. Great job. Come on, I’ll walk you out of the dungeons.”

Draco held Harry’s hand and kissed it before they started walking, both of them comfortable with the silence that fell upon them. The only sounds that went about the castle was their footsteps, both boys close to each other as they took their time, enjoying the feel of the other in their hand. A small smile graced Harry’s face as he thought about the boy next to him. He didn’t know what the feeling that was welling up inside of him was called. He wanted to be with Draco, wanted to touch him and hold him and let Draco hold him back. He wanted Draco to take care of the things inside him he couldn’t take care of, he wanted to trust his life with Draco, trust his heart. He wanted to spend every single minute with Draco. Was this love? Harry didn’t know how to fully described it. He had never felt any emotion close to this, not even the care he got from the Weasley family reached close to this emotion.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize that they had stopped at the third floor landing of the Grand Staircase. “Harry…. Harry… Harry!” Draco said, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

“What—sorry,” Harry blushed. Draco chuckled and smiled at Harry. “Lost in your thoughts, baby?”

“Yeah…” Harry admitted.

“We have to go to sleep baby, come on,” Draco said. He kissed Harry’s lips again and petted Harry’s hair. “Good night Harry.”

“Good night Draco,” Harry said. “I love you…” he said softly.

Draco stopped, stared at Harry, and smiled broadly. “I love you too baby.”

They kissed again, Harry losing himself in Draco’s touch before they were forced to part again. “Good night Harry,” Draco whispered again before turning to leave down the stairway. Harry watched him go, missing several flashes of light as he and Draco walked away from each other. Outside, the sky was clear, the moon and stars out. But out on the horizon, drifting slowly and mercilessly was a blackness that continued to head towards Hogwarts. A blackness that was unrelenting, unfocused, and perfectly neutral.


	10. Consummations and Hatred

Chapter X

Consummations and Hatred

Harry did not find out about the flashing light, nor the pictures, until the following morning. Colin Creevey ran up to Harry, waving the picture around. “Harry! Harry! Look!” He smiled.

“What is it Colin?” Harry asked annoyed. He didn’t get much sleep that night, his mind still buzzing about last night.

“It’s a picture I took,” Colin smiled. “My Dad added a new lens that I can use to zoom in and I saw you with Malfoy and—“The rest of Colin’s sentence was muffled as Harry quickly placed his hand on Colin’s mouth.

“You saw what?” He whispered, his eyes darting around nervously to make sure no one heard Colin. “Quick, give me that picture,” Harry said.

Colin did and Harry looked at it. It was a picture of him and Draco like Colin said. And they were kissing. Fear rose quickly through Harry as he stared at the picture. When did he take it? Did he show anyone else? Did they know? “Colin, don’t you date lie to me,” Harry whispered feverishly. “Did you show this to anyone else?”

“No,” Colin answered. “You’re the first.”

“Good,” Harry sighed, relieved. He quickly tore the picture up much to Colin’s horror.

“Why did you do that?” Colin moaned.

“No one needs to know this,” Harry said quietly. “Absolutely no one. If they do, who knows what they will do to Draco or me—or you!”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Wizards are really hateful people right now Colin. If they heard that you took this picture and did nothing about it, they’ll go after you as well.”

“But… but…”

“It sucks, I know, but try me Colin just forget you saw it,” Harry said.

“Why does it matter?” Colin asked.

“It just does,” Harry stressed. “Do you have any more pictures of me and Draco?”

“No—“

“Good. Listen to me Colin, if you want to save yourself from them, do not take any more pictures like that. In fact, forget you even took that picture, and for God’s sake _don’t_ tell anyone, I mean _anyone_ , about this,” Harry said.

“About what Harry?” a voice asked. Harry turned to see Hermione behind him.

“Nothing much,” Harry shrugged.

“Nothing?” Hermione asked again, suspicious.

“That’s right, nothing,” Harry nodded.

“Right… anyway, we should get going. Classes start soon,” Hermione said, turning to leave. Harry’s shoulders sagged as he gave a sigh and looked at Colin. “Please promise me you’ll stay silent.”

“Okay Harry, I will,” Colin nodded, but still frowning. “It was a good picture though.”

“Yeah, it was,” Harry said, smiling at the memory of kissing Draco.

The weeks started to pass by as Harry’s work schedule began to fill drastically. Not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. Thankfully however, both due to the Prince’s help and Draco’s tutorage during the summer, Harry’s best class was still Potions. Nonverbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too, Harry frequently looked over at his classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed on U-No-Poo; but he knew that they were really struggling to make spells work without saying incantations aloud.

One result of their enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing nonverbal spells was that Harry and Draco barely had time to meet up in secret, if at all. The most they were able to do was to give secret glances and smiles at each other, most of which Adrian Ashford noticed as he always sat down next to Draco. He heard the rumors that Adrian was the new Ice Prince of Slytherin as Draco appointed himself King. Harry laughed when he heard that and smiled in mirth, knowing that that is something his boyfriend would eagerly do. The Slytherins seemed to separate themselves from the King and Prince, only Blaise sitting down next to them as the three ate. Harry looked pleased when he noticed that Bulstrode’s memory was completely wiped clean.

On the day of Quidditch trials, Harry was approached by a first year Gryffindor he barely noticed at first. “Hey… umm Harry Potter? Can I… can I speak with you?”

“Yeah, sure what’s your name again?” Harry asked. He was already dressed in his Quidditch robes and shouldered his Firebolt.

“Charlie. Charlie Warbeck,” the first year said. “I uhh noticed you’ve been looking at Adrian a lot.”

“Yeah, well you’ve heard the rumors didn’t you?” Harry asked.

“I know. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Adrian is…was…is my friend. I know it’s illegal for Gryffindors and Slytherins to be friends but, I’ve met him on the train before we were sorted. Anyway, I was wondering if… will he… do you think he’s going to change?” Charlie asked, his cheeks tinted.

Harry smiled and said, “No, I don’t think he’s going to change.”

“Good! I mean, I don’t want him to be bullied, you know. He has two dads, sounds like great people, and I know that people would—“

“He’s fine, he’ll be fine,” Harry chuckled. “Draco and Blaise are taking care of him. Trust me, the kid will be okay.”

“Good…” Charlie sighed. Harry nodded and turned to leave the castle. Charlie followed, telling Harry he will watch the tryouts.

Ron caught up with Harry and Charlie, Ron just sending a curious look at the first year before shrugging. Harry expected that the trials would take most of the morning, and he was correct. Half of Gryffindor House seemed to have turned up, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms (they were sent off to sit next to Charlie immediately) to seventh years who towered over the rest and Harry, looking coolly intimidating. The latter included a large, wiry-haired boy Harry recognized immediately from the Hogwarts Express.

“We met on the train, in old Sluggy’s compartment,” the boy said confidently, taking Harry’s hand in his own. “Cormac McLaggen, Keeper.”

“You didn’t try out last year, did you?” Harry asked, taking a note of how wide Cormac was, impressed that it was all muscles. He didn’t noticed that McLaggen was still holding his hand. His grip was tight, and hand extremely warm.

“I was in the hospital wing when they held the trials, “ McLaggen said with something of a swagger. “Ate a pound of doxy eggs for a bet.”

Harry laughed, “Right… well, if you wait over there. …”

He pointed over to the edge of the pitch with his other hand, close to where Hermione was waiting with Ron. McLaggen nodded and finally let go of Harry’s hand, the heat’s immediate disappearance making Harry’s hand freeze as the wind hit it. As Cormac walked, Harry heard whispered through the Gryffindor crowd.

“What’s that fag think he’s doing?”

“Why did he hold his hand for so long?”

“Damn poof. As if I’ll play with him.”

“If he makes the team I hope he falls off the ground.”

“Might jinx him just so he falls.”

Harry frowned and tried not to let it affect him as he looked around at the crowd, trying to find whoever was whispering. He glanced at McLaggen and saw he wasn’t affected. Were they talking about him or Harry?

He shook his worriment out of his head and tried to focus on the trial. He decided to start with a simple test, all applicants divided into groups of ten and flew around the pitch once. This was a good idea as he quickly dismissed groups, including the silliest girls he had ever seen, a group without brooms, and Hufflepuffs. After the test he found that the initial group more than half, and after two hours he mostly had his team. His three Chasers included veteran Katie Bell, a new find named Demelza Robins, and (much to Harry’s begrudgingly behavior) Ginny Weasley. His new Beaters weren’t as good as Fred and George, but they would do. Keeper’s trials were last, and Harry hoped that most of the field would be empty by now,  however all the rejected players and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. As each Keeper flew up to the goal hoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure.

None of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece. When it was McLaggen’s turn, Harry heard Ginny mutter “I hope he loses.”

Harry frowned when he saw his entire team nod in agreement.

“Why?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear? He’s a fag. He was caught with some Beauxbatons poof two years ago at the Yule Ball,” Ginny sneered.

“I didn’t hear anything like that,” Harry frowned, regretting his decision to allowing Ginny to join.

“Well, you were a bit busy with the Triwizard Tournament,” Ginny said.

Harry frowned and watched Cormac’s trial. The Chasers were ruthless to McLaggen, each of them throwing the Quaffle with all their strength, sometimes aiming for McLaggen’s head, but with that same arrogant confidence, McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and McLaggen returned to the ground grinding his teeth.

Harry said nothing as it was Ron’s turn. He was scared to out himself right then and there to try and comfort the arrogant Gryffindor in some way. Ron looked ready to pass out as he mounted his Cleansweep Eleven. “Good luck!” cried a voice from the stands. Harry looked around, expecting to see Hermione, but it was Lavender Brown.

Harry turned to watch Ron’s trial. He had nothing to worry as Ron saved one, two, three, four, all five penalties in a row. Delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with difficulty, Harry turned to McLaggen. “Sorry Cormac, Ron’s Keeper. He saved five, you saved four.”

McLaggen’s face turned red. “His sister didn’t really try,” he said menacingly. “They were aiming for my head! You saw that!”

“But still he saved five, and you: four.”

McLaggen looked as if he wanted to hit Harry but resist the temptation. “Homophobic asshole. Should have known,” he muttered as he stomped away. The Gryffindors laughed at McLaggen and Harry frowned.

“Hey!” He said loudly. McLaggen turned, anger and hurt still on his face. “I am _not_ that,” Harry stressed. “I am far different from them. You should know.”

“Wha—“

“ _We_ are different from them,” Harry said again. Understanding came on McLaggen’s face and he just nodded, still angry at Harry.

Harry turned around to find his new team beaming at him. “Good riddance,” Katie Bell said.

“Yeah,” his beaters nodded. “We don’t need it, right?”

“They’re right, good on you to yelling him out Harry,” Ginny smiled. Harry grimaced and looked at Ron, who was looking equally grim.

“Yeah… well… good job everyone. …”

“Did you see the way Cormac lumbered off in the wrong direction for the fifth? Looked like he’d been Confunded…” Ron said grinning highly.

Hermione came up to them and congratulated Ron. They decided to visit Hagrid, and after a rather awkward reunion Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent a delightful afternoon with Hagrid, Ron retelling the Keeper’s trials to great detail. As the afternoon came to a close they’ve left Hagrid and Harry said, “I’m starving. And I’ve got that detention with Snape tonight, I haven’t got much time for dinner. …”

As they came into the castle they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after him, but Harry caught Hermione’s arm and held her back.

“What?” Hermione said defensively.

“If you ask me,” Harry said quietly, “Cormac looks like he was Confunded this morning. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting.”

Hermione blushed.

“Oh, all right then, I did it,” Hermione whispered. “But you should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he’s got a nasty temper—and well a nasty disposition, you should know what he did two years ago—you wouldn’t have wanted someone like that on the team.”

Harry just stared at her, gawking at her blatant homophobia. Saying nothing, he just walked past her. Hermione followed confused. Harry sidestepped Professor Slughorn, wanting nothing else but to eat and stare at his boyfriend. As he sat down he looked up at Slytherin Table and gasped.

He could feel the cold tension from the other side of the Great Hall; the Slytherin Table seemed to be divided. Draco and Blaise sat down in their normal seats, with Adrian next to him, however their body language was defensive as Blaise glared daggers at the other Slytherins, who were staring at Adrian with hatred. Adrian’s lips were swollen and Harry could see glints of red that stood out from the porcelain white tone of his skin. Worriment shot through Harry’s very being. What happened to the poor muggleborn!?

 

Before dinner at the Great Hall that same day, around the time Harry was holding his Quidditch trials, Adrian Ashford was writing a letter.

He was sitting in the Slytherin common room hunched over the desk as he wrote the letter, a pencil dangling between his fingers as he bit his lip. His heart raced as he stared at the page, a cold sweat drenching his forehead as he tried to find the words, any words, that would fit his request. Adrian let out a huge sigh as he brought the pencil to the paper and tried to write.

_Dear Daddy and Dad,_

_I hope you guys are well. Hogwarts is very nice so far. I’ve met a friend named Charlie Warbeck, he’s in Gryffindor while I’m in Slytherin. I’m sorry for not writing sooner but I’ve been very very busy. I’m a Prince! Well, technically a Prince as my friend Draco Malfoy told me that he’s the King of Slytherin and as long as he’s taking care of me, I’m their Prince. The other Slytherins don’t like that. They hate me. Because I’m what they called a ‘muggleborn,’ or a wizard with muggle parents. They don’t know that I have two Daddies. The people here, they hate people like you and Draco. I don’t know why. Why do people hate you guys when you’ve done nothing wrong? Anyway, there’s something that I need to ask you. I know that I’ve never asked you about them, and I don’t really care for because I know you two are my parents, but the Slytherins won’t stop bothering me about it! They hate that they have a muggleborn in Slytherin, they say that it never happens and shouldn’t happen, and keep asking to make sure that I am a muggleborn. So please don’t lie to me. Dad, Daddy, who are my parents? My mother and father who left me at the orphanage. I need to know, I need to stop this. Please Daddy, Dad, help me._

_Love,_

_Adree._

Satisfied with the letter, Adrian placed the pencil down and folded the paper. He stood up and turned around, only to run into a group of older Slytherins. “Look, the mudblood,” one of them sneered. Adrian frowned as he looked at Parkinson. She was surrounded by Crabbe, Goyle, Greengrass, and other Slytherins.

“What do you want Parkinson?” Adrian asked, his voice cold like Draco’s. He spent many hours practicing in the bathroom.

The female Slytherin laughed coldly and looked down at Adrian. “Writing a letter eh? Let’s see that!” she said, snatching the paper out of Adrian’s hands.

“That’s mine!” He shouted. He made a lunge for it, but Crabbe and Goyle held him back, each troll holding an arm as Adrian kicked helplessly. Parkinson laughed cruelly as she opened the letter.

“Daddy and Dad?” She sneered, “You have fags raising you?” Anger rose in Adrian as he continued to struggle against Crabbe and Goyle. “Ick! Crabbe! Goyle! You have fag germs on you! Who knows, he was probably already screwed by those disgusting things!”

“Crabbe, Goyle, teach him how we handle poofs here,” Parkinson said. The next thing Adrian felt was pain as both trolls punched his face, their fists pushing his skull inward as pain rang out in his brain. Laughter roared around him as he felt blow after blow on his face and body. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt a hard force on his nose. Parkinson was reading his letter out loud, laughing with the rest of the Slytherins. “’The people here, they hate people like you and Draco’ As if! As if Draco’s a fucking poof like your stupid, worthless, piece of shits poofs you call ‘Daddy!’” She sneered. “Crabbe! Goyle! Teach the boy a lesson for daring to call Draco a faggot.”

“Yes ma’am,” they nodded. Crabbe grabbed Adrian’s hair and pulled forcefully. Adrian screamed as his head was reared back, his neck straining. He could feel individual hair being pulled out.

“What the hell is going on?” A voice yelled.

“None of your business Nott, just teaching the little faggy Prince here a lesson,” Parkinson said.

Adrian looked at Nott, tears streaming down his cheeks as he begged silently. Nott stared for a moment, unsure what to do, before running away from the scene and out of the common room. Adrian cried out in despair as he felt another fist on his head. There was a sound, and he felt cold liquid running down his forehead. “Please…”

“Shut up!”

Adrian cried out, his body shaking as Crabbe and Goyle continued to punch him, and Parkinson reading his letter to the mob of Slytherins. There was a loud bang, and Adrian fell to his knees as the door to the common room blasted apart. “PARKINSON!” Draco yelled, his voice rough as he ran through, pushing and blasting Slytherins out of his way.

“Draco!” Adrian cried out. “Draco daddy please!”

“Adrian!” Blaise yelled, more students being forced away as the two Slytherins made a path towards Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle. Behind them was Nott, looking worried.

“Blaise daddy!” Adrian whimpered.

“Shut up!” Crabbe sneered, punching him. “Don’t talk to Malfoy like that, fag!”

“Petrificus Totalus!” Blaise sneered. Crabbe’s arms snapped to his sides, letting go of Adrian, and he fell as his legs froze together, paralyzed. Adrian yanked his arm from a shocked Goyle and ran towards Blaise, wrapping his skinny arms around Blaise, the poor boy openly crying.

Seeing their Prince in tears just enraged Draco more as he lashed out at Parkinson, bombarding her with Stinging Hexes. Parkinson yelled out and cried, “What was that for Draco!?”

“I should hurt you more!” Draco yelled. “He is your Prince! He is my friend! And you _dare_ treat him like that? All of you! What the fuck is your problem?”

“He’s a fag!—OW!” Parkinson cried as Draco gave her another hard Stinging Hex.

“Don’t you ever call him that,” Draco sneered “Give me the letter. Or else.”

“Or else what?” Parkinson asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Draco said, his wand aimed directly at Parkinson.

“Do it Pansy… please,” Nott said. Parkinson looked between Nott and Draco and sneered. “Fine. It’s stupid anyway.”

She dropped the letter and walked away. Both boys, still angry, cast more spells on her, Parkinson falling with a cry as huge blisters and boils cover her face. Draco ignored her as he bent down and picked up Adrian’s letter. “Adrian,” he said softly, “how badly did they hurt you?”

“I think I’m bleeding,” Adrian whimpered. “I—I need to get that letter to Daddy and Daddy.”

“It’s okay,” Blaise said, brushing Adrian’s hair away from his eyes. “Draco and I will take care of you. Come on now.”

Adrian nodded and allowed Blaise to hold him as they got to their feet. “Doesn’t feel like anything is broken,” Blaise said. “We’ll get you to Madam Pomfrey—“

“No! I don’t need to,” Adrian worried. “I’m fine. I just want to mail my letter.”

“Okay, come on, let’s head to the Owlery,” Blaise said. Adrian nodded and the two started to leave the common room.

Draco followed but stopped in front of Nott. “Thank you Theo, for warning us. I don’t know what would happen if we didn’t know,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Nott nodded. “What Pansy did… it was too much.”

“You’re right.”

Draco left Nott in the common room and caught up with Adrian and Blaise. The two sixth years walked on either side of Adrian, making a queer sight for the people they’d walked by, but Draco and Adrian didn’t care. The three walked quietly to the Owlery, and Draco and Blaise showed Adrian how to get an owl to fly to them and attach a letter on their leg.

“Umm my house, please?” Adrian asked the owl as he tied the letter. The owl simply shot off from the perch and flew out the window. “Did it work?” he asked.

“Yup,” Blaise nodded. Adrian smiled and followed the two older boys out, shocked that it is already dark. “Come on, let’s have dinner.”

“Okay Blaise,” Adrian nodded.

“So Adrian, what was that letter to your fathers about?” Draco asked curiously.

“I asked them if they could tell me who my biological parents are,” Adrian said. “I don’t care, because I know my real parents are my Dad and Daddy. But, maybe if I do know they’ll stop bothering me about it. You know?”

“I see,” Draco nodded.

“Why is everyone so concern anyway?” Adrian asked.

“Well… I will not lie to you Adrian, it’s because you just remind Harry and me of someone,” Draco said.

“Who?”

Draco shook his head, “I’ll tell you another time Adrian, don’t worry. One problem at a time, and yours is more important.”

“Okay Draco,” Adrian nodded, relaxing a little in the older boys’ presence. They’ve went to the Great Hall and ate a tense dinner, the Slytherins avoiding him. Draco smirked when he saw that Parkinson wasn’t there. He felt eyes staring at him and looked to see Harry. They smiled and his heart fluttered, a great need to be with him. An idea sparking in his head, Draco pulled out a small piece of parchment and wrote on it. He tapped it with his wand and the note turned into a paper bird which flew behind the Slytherin Table, skirted the walls, and landed directly in front of Harry.

 

Harry was shocked to see the paper bird land in front of him and unfolded itself. “Who’s it from?” Hermione asked.

Harry snatched up the note and read it.

_Harry,_

_I miss you too much. I need to feel you against me, talk to you, hold you. Meet me in the Room of Requirements in twenty minutes._

A smile etched itself on Harry’s face as he looked up at Slytherin Table and nodded. Draco returned it and leaned to whisper to Adrian and Blaise. “Well?” Hermione asked.

“Huh?” Harry said, looking at Hermione.

“The note… you smiled after reading it. What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing—hey, listen I have to leave for Snape’s detention,” Harry said. He stood and took his bag. He rushed out of Great Hall and started up the stairs.

“Baby!” Draco called out. Harry stopped and turned towards him. As soon as Draco reached him, they’ve kissed hungrily, both boys needing to meet the desire that has long built up. “Come with me baby,” Draco whispered.

“I want to Draco,” Harry whined. “But Snape—my detention—“

“Get it over with quick,” Draco said. “And get to the Room of Requirement immediately afterwards. I need you so much Harry.”

“I need you too Draco,” Harry moaned. “I missed you. I want to sleep with you Draco.”

Draco smiled and kissed Harry. “I need to tell you something important Harry before you go,” he said.

“What is it Draco?”

“I love you.”

Harry smiled. “I love you too Draco!” Both boys embraced but quickly separated as Harry once again reminded Draco of his detention with Snape.

Snape had Harry sort out rotten flobberworms from good ones and didn’t allow Harry to wear any protective gloves. By the end his hands were gross-feeling and he wanted nothing else but to clean them and get to Draco. He ran from the dungeons and towards the seventh floor, his mind chanting “I need the room Draco is in.” As he ran around the corridor a third time the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. He opened the door and found Draco reclined in a comfortable armchair reading.

The room looked like Draco’s room in Malfoy Manor. There was a huge bed with soft sheets that begged Harry’s body to lay on it. Light came from an ornate fireplace where two armchairs sat in front of, as well as a low table with red wine and two glasses. Bookshelves were placed against the wall, and there was a giant window opened to show the clear night, and in it the moon shone full and bright. And, luckily, there was a sink and soap.

“The sink’s new baby,” Draco chuckled. “Your idea?”

Harry nodded and showed his hands. “Flubberworms,” he said. Draco chuckled and returned to his book as Harry went to the sink and cleaned his hands thoroughly.

The sink disappeared as soon as Harry was done and he turned to his boyfriend. They smiled at each other and Draco placed the book down, patting his lap. Harry gave a sly smile and walked slowly towards Draco, sitting down on his boyfriend’s lap. “Alone,” he said.

“Indeed,” Draco smirked, taking Harry’s lips. Both boys moaned as Draco deepened the kiss, his tongue lapping and exploring Harry’s mouth. Harry moaned as Draco kissed him, their cheeks turning flushed as Harry’s hands found their places in Draco’s hair and clothes. “I need you Harry,” Draco breathed. “I want you so bad.”

“I need you too Draco,” Harry breathed. “Please… take me.”

“Are you sure Harry?” Draco asked. Harry nodded. “I need you Draco, I love you Draco, I want to feel a connection with you that no one else will.”

Draco nodded. “Bed,” he commanded. Harry slipped off of him and started stripping. Draco smiled as he watched Harry slowly take off his clothing, revealing his lean nude self. His cock was starting to harden, resting in a small patch of pubic hair as his butt moved with each step, giving Draco a hint to his pink hole. Draco licked his lips as he stared at it. “Get on all fours and show me your hole Harry,” Draco said.

Harry nodded and got on his hands and knees. He laid his head down so that his ass was perked up, and his hole exposed. Draco quickly shed his clothes, his own cock hardening with each step towards Harry’s hole. He had dreams of this night for so long. So many positions, so many games to play with Harry, each of them ending with Draco cumming into Harry’s perk, tight hole. Harry looked back and gasped. “You’re so thick Draco!” he said.

“Yeah Baby,” Draco smirked. “And all of this will be inside you. You want that, don’t you?” Harry just moaned in response and pushed his ass towards Draco. Draco chuckled and said, “You’re an eager virgin.”

“As if you had sex!” Harry bit back. That got Draco to laugh and said, “That’s true. You’re my first and own Harry. Now show that hole to me, I promise this will feel good.”

Harry nodded and spread his legs even further, giving Draco easy access to his hole. There was a very light trail of hair coming from Harry’s cock and balls to his ass, Harry’s cock pointing straight downward and balls on display. Draco took hold of Harry’s ass, his hand spreading the cheeks even further as he leaned down and gave one long lick from the top of Harry’s ass, all along Harry’s hole, tasting the rich spicy, intoxicating aroma that is Harry, and continued along the light treasure trail, reaching Harry’s balls. He then licked back up and stayed on Harry’s hole. Harry gave a long moan as Draco started kissing his hole, his spit and slobber wetting the pink hole, the tight wrinkle loosening under Draco’s touch. The room filled with Harry’s moans as he pushed his ass back at Draco. Draco’s spit drenched Harry’s hole as he nipped and licked all over. When he felt Harry was loose enough, Draco darted his tongue inside, the hot velvet hole overtaking his tongue as the spicy taste surrounded his taste buds. Both boys moaned as Draco started to fuck Harry with his tongue. Draco’s hand moved towards his moth and he quickly lapped as his middle finger before thrusting it in Harry’s hole, his finger going in easily.

Harry yipped as Draco moved his finger in and out of his hole, his pace furious before stopping to go slow, his finger curling around. Harry’s cock was leaking and he was left a whimpering mess as he whined Draco’s name. “Please Draco! I need to come!”

“Not yet Baby, hold it,” Draco said. Harry whined but did his best to keep his cum in his cock, though pre-cum leaked from his slit, the white substance covering the head of his cock before dripping on the bed. When Draco saw this he chuckled. “What a naughty Baby,” he said, moving away from Harry’s ass. Harry whined as the lost of Draco’s touch but quickly barked as he felt the stinging hit of Draco’s spank. Draco spanked him a couple more times before grabbing Harry and flipping him over so that he was laying on his back. “Draco!” he said.

“Naughty Harry needs to be punished,” Draco chuckled. “And now, I’ll relieve your stress.” And with skill Harry didn’t know Draco had, his boyfriend took his hard leaking cock in his mouth, swallowing it all in one go as his nose buried in the dark pubes. Harry didn’t last long as Draco expertly sucked him, his tongue licking at all the sensitive places on Harry’s cock, and his teeth barely grazing along that drove Harry nuts. With a scream he came into Draco, his boyfriend swallowing every rope of hot cum Harry provided him.

Harry’s cheeks were flushed, body shining with sweat as his chest breathed deeply. “Dra—Draco…” he breathed.

“Yes Harry?” Draco smirked as he let Harry’s cock slide out of his mouth, the spit and cum mixture slapping against Harry’s stomach. Draco took Harry’s cock and started playing with it teasingly.

“Please,” he moaned. “I need you in me.”

“Soon Baby boy, soon,” Draco said. “Lift your legs up. You’re going to love these spells.”

Harry lifted his legs and hooked his arms around them. Draco moved to get his wand and aimed it at Harry’s hole. Giving a smirk, he cast a spell and Harry gave a scream of pleasure as he felt his hole expand rapidly, his tight hole opening up perfectly for Draco’s wide, fat cock. With another flick Harry felt a cold substance in his hole as it became lubricated. “W-Where did you learn these?” he moaned.

“Fred and George,” Draco answered.

Harry moaned and thought that he had to thank Fred and George later as Draco aligned his cock with Harry’s hole. Slowly, teasingly slowly, Draco moved towards Harry, the head of his cock just kissing Harry’s open hole before retreating. “Draco!” Harry moaned.

Draco chuckled, “Do you want it Baby?”

“Yes Draco! I want your cock!” Harry moaned, trying to push his ass closer to Draco. Draco shook his head and smirk. “Say please Baby. Come on love.”

“Please Draco,” Harry moaned. “Please fuck your Baby with your cock!”

“Of course Harry,” Draco smirked and with one move the head of his cock pushed in. Harry let out a long, low moan as Draco continued to push in, his fat cock being enwrapped by the tight hotness that is his Harry. When his balls slapped against Harry’s ass he stopped and both boys took a moment to catch their breaths.

“I feel so full…” Harry moaned, shifting his ass around Draco’s cock. Draco moaned and readied himself. He waited for Harry’s word, and when Harry told him to move, he did. Draco started with slow, long strokes, pulling his cock out of Harry’s ass until only the head was in, then pushing back, the walls around his cock collapsing and expanding around his fat, wide cock. The sound of wet slaps filled the room as Draco’s balls and pelvic thrust against Harry’s ass. Draco pulled his cock slowly out of Harry’s ass again until only his head was in, then instead of going back slowly, he slammed his cock into Harry’s ass, pushing the boy back a little. Harry screamed in pleasure and closed his eyes in bliss as Draco grabbed his legs and wrapped them around his waist. In this new position, Draco repeated the action again, pulling out gently only to fuck back in furiously. Harry begged for the roughness, his cheeks fully red as he begged Draco to fuck his Baby properly.

Draco smirked and obliged. His hips moved furiously, his cock seemingly pulsing and vibrating in Harry’s ass as it dug deeper and deeper. Draco leaned down, their chests touching as Harry’s hands wrapped around Draco’s back and started to leave scratches as he tried to hold on. The room was filled with their pants, as it started to smell like sex as sweat and musk mixed. Harry began a chant of Draco’s name, screaming and moaning for more as Draco continued fucking him. Then, without warning, both boys came, Harry’s cum splattering Draco’s sweaty stomach and chest as Draco came deep inside Harry.

They smiled at each other and shared lazy kisses as Draco pulled out. Their faces were both red and drenched with sweat, they were both out of breath, but they were extremely happy. “I love you,” Harry whispered.

“I love you too,” Draco whispered back. He looked down at Harry’s body and smirked when he saw his hardening cock. “Again?”

“Yes please,” Harry said.

The boys tried different positions as the night’s hours passed. By the early light of morning, Harry has been filled multiple times in both holes as well as exhausted himself from Draco’s natural experience. There was a small, but noticeable, bump in Harry’s stomach, which Draco lazily stroke as they cuddled naked on top of the sheets. “You’ve filled me with so much cum it looks like I’m pregnant!” Harry gasped.

“Yeah,” Draco smirked. “I love it,” he said kissing Harry’s cheek. Harry smiled and nodded. Draco looked at him and asked, “Have you ever thought of it? Having a baby?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I want a family so bad. Not having the chance to know my mum and dad… and my… experiences… with the Dursleys just make me want a normal happy family so bad.”

Draco smiled and kissed Harry’s cheek. “And we will have that family Harry. You and me and all of our kids.”

“Our kids?”

“Of course Harry… you’re stuck with me forever love,” Draco whispered gently. “You’re my Baby, and I’ll never leave you.”

Harry smiled and relaxed against Draco’s shoulder. “Your Baby… I like that,” he said. He looked down at the cum-gut and asked “Have you ever thought? About baby names?”

“I have a few,” Draco said nodding. “For a girl, maybe Helen. I just like the sound of that. As for a boy… Scorpius. Definitely Scorpius. How about you, love?”

“James for a boy, and Lily for a girl,” Harry said. “I want them to know that they’re named after the greatest witch and wizard I’ve ever known.”

“Your parents’ names… sentimental,” Draco smiled. Harry blushed and Draco shook his head, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that Harry, I love it.” Draco thought for a moment, his hand rubbing circles on Harry’s stomach. “If we have a girl, her name will be Helen Lily Malfoy. And if a boy… Scorpius James Malfoy,” he said.

“And what makes you think I’ll be taking your last name?” Harry gave a playful smirk.

“Because you love me,” Draco said.

“True,” Harry said, giving Draco a quick kiss before looking at his cum gut. “Scorpius James Malfoy. … I like it.”

The boys spent the rest of the day lounging together, never dressing and just relaxing in each other’s presence. As the morning wore on, Harry’s stomach digested all the cum that was in his stomach and it returned to his normal, slim self. Around lunch time Draco had one of his own elves come into the Room with food for both of them, and they spent an hour just feeding each other. Harry just relaxed and enjoyed his time with his boyfriend and future husband, both boys ignorant to the fact that they’ve just took a step towards their ultimate goal. And with that step came many joys, as well as many woes.


	11. Joyous Occasions

Chapter XI

Joyous Occasions

“Why haven’t you reported in earlier?” Voldemort asked. It was late at night, and Draco’s head rested on the fireplace as the Slytherin reported from the Slytherin Common Room.

“I’m sorry my lord,” Draco said. “This is the first time I am alone to report in.”

“I have heard of troubling reports,” Voldemort said. “Countless of your fellow Slytherins had the tact to mail their parents, and these letters all involve one particular student. A muggleborn.”

“Yes,” Draco frowned. “I will return to that later—“

“A muggleborn in Slytherin,” Voldemort sneered. “What could that idiotic man be thinking? Ruining Slytherin’s great tradition by allowing a muggleborn.” Draco’s face stayed emotionless as he watched his lord raging, his red eyes flaring with anger at the thought of it. “How could they like that idiotic, simpleton mudblood—“

“Adrian is not a mudblood,” Draco lashed out. “I am sorry my lord, but I will not allow anyone to insult Adrian,” he spoke quickly.

“You dare—“

“Yes I dare,” Draco said. “Adrian is not idiotic or a simpleton and I am sick of those babbling baboons I am forced to call Housemates insulting him at any moment. They have attacked Adrian last night. If Nott didn’t warn me and Blaise, I do not wish to know what would have happened. Besides my lord, I believe you should be worried about Adrian’s well being.”

“And why should I?” Voldemort asked, his voice cold and near-silent.

“Because, my lord,” Draco said surprisingly coolly, “he looks like your deceased husband.”

There was a silence between the two, Voldemort staring down at Draco from his armchair, his wand held between his fingers, and Draco staying completely still, wondering if he had time to pull out before he was cursed.

“Draco,” Voldemort said curtly, his eyes stared down at Draco as he considered the Slytherin. “You have a backbone that your father lacks,” he commented. “My husband you say… why do you mention my Adrian when commenting on this muggleborn?”

“Because my lord,” Draco said. “Harry had told me multiple times of how you have described Adrian Balk. Dark hair with dull blue eyes. Adrian Ashford is the same, scarily so. He had told us that he is an orphan and doesn’t know his true parents.”

“Interesting…” Voldemort mused. He leaned back in his armchair and stared at Draco, lost in thoughts. “Harry has told you my past with Adrian, I am guessing,” he mused.

“Yes, my lord,” Draco nodded.

“Very well then,” Voldemort said. “Then you know that when he was executed, Adrian was pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yes,” Voldemort nodded. “With our daughter.”

“Oh… what was her name?” Draco asked.

“We were still debating,” Voldemort said. “He was seven months pregnant and we were still debating. … He wanted Delphini, but I knocked it away, telling him that the name sounded stupid. After that, he wanted to name her Hera after his mother. He also suggested my mother’s name but I again denied it. He was arrested when he was seven months and executed a month later.”

“Oh…” Draco said, frowning.

“I have hoped that our daughter was born before his execution,” Voldemort continued. “I was not present there, but I’ve found his body afterwards. His stomach was turned in. …” Voldemort stopped talking, as if he was trying to control emotions he had stopped feeling decades ago. Draco stayed respectfully quiet as his lord controlled himself. When he was calm, Voldemort continued. “If my daughter was in fact born, then there is a chance that she grew up and had a son around Adrian’s age. If that is what happened, then promise me this, Draco: Protect the boy. He is my grandson, and heir to my legacy as well as the Legacy of the Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“Of course,” Draco nodded, thinking to himself that he will protect Adrian even if he turned out to be just a muggleborn.

“Good, now that that matter is over, give me your report,” Voldemort said.

Draco nodded. “Dumbledore is giving Harry private lessons. They seem to be looking into your past, my lord. So far they have looked at one memory of a Bob Ogden, who have… visited your mother and Grandfather’s house the Gaunts.”

Voldemort stared at Draco, anger appearing on his face before disappearing. “They’re going into my past? What is the old man thinking? He could not have found out… no, it’s impossible. …”

“My lord?”

“You’re dismissed Draco. Keep watch on Adrian, and the next time you make a report I want Potter here as well,” Voldemort ordered. “In the meantime, until we know the true identity of Adrian Ashford, tell your Housemates to leave him alone.”

“Yes my lord,” Draco nodded. He pulled his head out of the fireplace and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That went surprisingly smoothly,” he muttered to himself. Brushing any soot that found themselves on his hair, Draco stood up and stretched before looking at the time. It was midnight. Wishing he could sleep with Harry’s body next to him again, Draco climbed the staircase towards the boy’s dormitory. He was expecting everyone to be sleeping, but was surprised to see Nott awake and sitting by a desk.

“How much have you heard?” Draco asked.

“I’ve started from when you were stating that Ashford is not a mudblood until the very end,” Nott said. “I was just going down to get a glass of water, not to eavesdrop on your meeting with the Dark Lord. …How are you even going to explain that if someone questions it.”

“What are you on about Nott?”

“You giving a fire call in the middle of the night,” Nott said.

“Simple, I just say that it was a family emergency or whatever,” Draco said, waving his hand lazily. “More importantly is now what are you going to do?”

“About what? About the fact that our Lord had a husband whom Dumbledore killed? Nothing. About that the Dark Lord and his husband—Adrian wasn’t it—supposedly had a daughter who may be Ashford’s real mother? Nothing. There is nothing that I feel like doing with that information Malfoy. I’m Especially not going squealing to Dumbledore about it.”

“I know you won’t,” Draco snapped. “But what about Parkinson?”

“What about her?”

“Well, I know you fancy the pug-faced girl, though I have no idea why—“

“She’s cute,” Nott shrugged.

Draco showed a look of disgust. “We will not talk about that,” he said. “Just promise that you will never tell Parkinson about this.”

“Why not?”

“Simple, I don’t trust her. And she should be lucky to be living after what she did to Adrian,” Draco said. “She is lucky she did not end up like Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco pointed towards two beds at the end of the room. A light-blue force separated the two areas, sealing Crabbe and Goyle in as a tiny, inextinguishable fire burned in the middle of the space, using the limited oxygen as the two brutes of Slytherins sleep.

“You know,” Nott said, “They could be murdered like that.”

“I don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides they won’t, as soon as the air becomes low of oxygen, the field will disappear before reappearing again thirty seconds later, the flame rekindled.”

“How did you…”

“I am the King of Slytherin,” Draco smirked. “It is expected of me to be the best.”

Nott just stared at him confused before shaking his head. “I’ll remember to keep you happy,” he muttered.

“You better,” Draco threatened. He looked towards the two sleeping trolls and smirked as he watched his handiwork. “Watch,” he said. Nott turned his attention to the force field and watched as it blinked blue twice before disappearing. The fire in the middle of the room blazed to life then, precisely thirty seconds later, the light blue force field appeared again, sealing the new oxygen inside.

Draco smirked at his handiwork as he walked towards his bed. Taking off his clothes, he slipped into his bed and leaning on the headboard, the sheets pooling at his legs, Draco nodded to Nott and said, “Goodnight Theo.”

“Goodnight Draco,” Theo nodded before returning to his bed.

The next morning Draco was the first to wake up. He went to the force field and tapped it with his wand. Not caring about his naked state, Draco walked into the back of the room, knocking over the fire and extinguishing it. He looked at both Crabbe and Goyle and frowned when he saw them still breathing. He woke both trolls up and glared at them. “You both should be dead after inhaling so much smoke,” He growled. “If I see either of you touch even a hair on Adrian, you will die. Do I make myself clear?”

The two trolls glared at Draco but nodded. Draco lashed at them, small cuts appearing right over their lungs. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” Draco asked again.

“Yes sir,” both boys whimpered. Draco smirked at their cowering and turned his back to them. “Go back to sleep boys, I’ll call on you when I have need.”

“Yes sir,” they said again before running back into their beds, scared.

Satisfied with himself, Draco took a shower, dressed, and made his way to the Great Hall. He was shocked to see Adrian already in his seat, nursing a cup as he looked completely exhausted. “Daddy told me not to drink caffeine,” he told Draco, “but I need it. I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

Draco looked in Adrian’s cup to see tea, the top of the tea coated in white as it shows too much sugar in it. On Adrian’s plate were countless kippers, their red meat staring at Draco. “Fish for breakfast?” he asked.

“I’m from Blackpool. Dad makes me kippers when I can’t sleep,” Adrian said. “So I asked that weird thing with the big eyes to make it.”

“Oh the house-elves,” Draco nodded. He took the kipper and picked it up. “I have never seen a fish eaten for breakfast,” he sneered as he took a small bit. “How do you even eat this?” he asked.

“You just do,” Adrian shrugged, eating the herring.

Draco just nodded and took another bite. “They smell disgusting,” he sneered.

“Then there’s just more for me,” Adrian said, taking the kipper from Draco. “I barely eat these… only when Dad sees I haven’t slept.”

Draco nodded and watched Adrian as he eat. His mind returned to his conversation with the Dark Lord and he frowned thoughtfully. Could Adrian really be Voldemort’s grandson? He just sat and watched the Slytherin Prince finish the plate of red kipper before draining his tea down his throat. Draco chuckled at the act and smiled.

“What?” Adrian blushed.

“Nothing, just thinking,” Draco said. “Hey, when do you think you’ll get a response? From your dads?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian blushed. “I mean… I’ve asked them something really heavy, you know? I don’t think I can expect a response for a few weeks. I’ve… I’ve never asked before.”

Draco nodded. “Well, you know I don’t care about the results, right? That no matter what, I’ll defend you no matter what.”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded, smiling softly. “Thanks for that Draco. … I’ve never met anyone that were as kind to me who wasn’t my Dad or Daddy.”

“Anytime,” Draco chuckled, wondering mildly how long it would take for the letter to come.

The answer was weeks. Halfway through October came their first trip of the term to Hogsmeade, and still no letter. Draco wondered idly whether these trips would still be allowed, given the increasingly tight security measures around the school, but was pleased to know that they were going ahead; it was always good to get out of the castle grounds for a few hours, especially if you can hide away with Harry. Draco was growing worried with his boyfriend. They have not met up since their night together, and his sweet baby recently looked very pale. On the morning they were leaving for Hogsmeade, Draco leaned over to Blaise and asked, “What is wrong with Harry?”

“I don’t know,” Blaise said, “he’d been looking rather sickly the past week. I hope he’s okay.”

“When my Daddy looked like that he had a nasty flu,” Adrian commented, drinking his tea with too much sugar and eating his kippers.

“Couldn’t sleep again Adrian?” Draco asked.

Adrian shook his head. “No. They were making fun of me,” he frowned.

“Point them out,” Blaise demanded.

“No—I don’t want to—“

“Adrian,” Blaise said.

Adrian frowned and pointed towards a group of first years near the end of the table. Blaise glared at them and looked at Draco. “Hey Draco, didn’t you and Harry buy a ton of products from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes?”

“Yes I did,” Draco nodded. “But we were going to use them on Dumbledore. Which reminds me… I promised Harry a few weeks ago that I would try and look for more guys like us.”

“Us?” Adrian asked confused.

“Guys like us and your fathers,” Draco said giving Adrian a small smile. “I know there are four currently. Me, Blaise, Harry, and his best friend Ron.”

“Ron’s gay?” Blaise asked. Draco nodded, which caused Blaise to smirk. He looked at Adrian and asked, “Hey Adrian, how would you like to help your daddy Blaise get another daddy for you?”

“What…”

“Ignore him,” Draco stated. “Blaise, if you’re thinking what I think you are.”

“The boy’s a Slytherin, it’s time he acts the part,” Blaise smirked. “Go into Draco’s trunk,” he instructed Adrian. “Get any prank that gets your fancy, and have your revenge on the first years. They’re acting like this because they believe they can walk all over you. Show them that they’re wrong.”

“Oh… okay,” Adrian nodded.

“And in the meantime, Ron and I need to have some talks,” Blaise smirked to himself as he eyed the redhead. “I always had a thing for redheads,” he said.

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on, I need to get ready for Hogsmeade anyway,” he told Adrian. Adrian nodded and stood obediently, following his superior out of the Great Hall and into the dungeons. When they’ve reached the sixth year boy’s dormitory, Adrian stopped to stare at the small flame sitting between Crabbe and Goyle’s bed. “Draco… why is that there?”

“A reminder,” Draco said, not looking at the flame. “It is for the dunderheads who sleep in those two beds.”

“And what is the reminder for?” Adrian asked.

“To never harm my Prince,” Draco said simply. “Ahh, here are some good ones,” he smiled. He handed Adrian a couple of boxes and pulled out a heavy cloak. Draco fastened the cloak on and looked at Adrian’s confused face. “Those you put on their beds,” he said. “It will dye their hair into a horrendous shade of puce, while these will make them throw up slugs for a couple of hours.”

“Gross,” Adrian said, scrunching his nose. “Thank you Draco!”

“Anytime Adrian, now come on. I have a certain Gryffindor I need to see, and you have some childish revenge to have,” Draco said. The two left the dormitory and parted ways by the dungeon entrance. Draco joined the crowd that were heading out for Hogsmeade, and quickly found Blaise. “Where’s Harry?” He asked as Filch checked their names and started to triple-check them with his Secrecy Sensor.

“I don’t know, I think I’ve seen him with Ron and Granger further back in the line,” Blaise whispered as soon as they were past Filch. The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than once Draco wondered how Harry was doing in this weather with his pale face, and when they finally reached Hogsmeade and saw that Zonko’s Joke Shop had been boarded up, Draco knew that Harry and Ron’s mood would deflate immensely.

“Let’s head to the Three Broomsticks!” Blaise shouted over the wind.

“Good idea!” Draco shouted. The two staggered into the crowded shop and forced their way to a table in the back. “It’s awfully crowded,” Draco grimaced as he looked around. “Though, I think we’ll be able to get our boys by ourselves.”

“Away from the Granger?” Blaise chuckled.

“Of course,” Draco nodded. “Haven’t you seen? Their relationship seemed to be a bit strained by now.”

“Really?” Blaise smirked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s good to hear.”

As if to prove their point, Harry and Ron appeared in Honeydukes a couple of minutes later. Draco finished his first butterbeer and smiled as he stood up. He caught Harry’s attention and waved him over. Harry touched Ron’s arm and pulled him gently towards the back, mixing into the crowd before appearing again in front of Draco. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

“I’ve missed you as well love, come on and sit down,” Draco said. “I promise no one will notice.”

“Hello Ron,” Blaise smiled at Ron. “Why don’t you and I… talk while the couple here get reunited? I know a place where we can be alone.”

“Oh… okay,” Ron blushed, giving Harry a small wave goodbye as he and Blaise disappeared in the crowd.

Harry sat down next to Draco, keeping a respectable distance so that others would stare at them weirdly if they looked their way, and smiled at Draco. “Draco, there’s something I need to tell you!” he said, his smiling beaming at his love.

“What is it Baby? I’ve been worried so much about you, what happened?”

“Something amazing Draco. Draco—I’m pregnant,” Harry said.

“You’re what?”

“Pregnant,” Harry said. “I’ve been throwing up every morning for the past few weeks, I’ve had a loss of appetite as well as a rapid gain, and I’ve been really tired lately. I’ve actually asked my mentor about it and he told me that this is how Adrian felt when he learned. Draco, Draco Malfoy I love you so much—we’re going to have a baby!”

Draco stared at him before sharing a similar grin. “Harry… Harry this is amazing! A baby? We’re going to have a baby? This is great! Ha!” Draco gave a laugh as he hugged Harry and gave him a kiss. They separated before anyone could see them. “A baby…” Draco whispered, a small smile remaining on both their faces.

“So that’s why you were so pale,” Draco said.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, a smile still on his face. “James Scorpius.”

“Scorpius James you mean,” Draco smirked.

“No, I’m carrying him, so my name goes first,” Harry said. “James Scorpius.”

Draco rolled his eyes and said, “Stand up for a bit, I’ll get us some Butterbeer.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. He slid out of the booth and allowed Draco to squeeze past him before sitting back down. He watched Draco disappear into the crowd and relaxed into the booth. A moment later Harry saw a body coming towards him, only to see Cormac.

“Hello Harry,” the Gryffindor smiled as he slid himself into Harry’s booth. “Lonely? That’s too bad.” The seventh year had a huge smile plastered on his face, and though it was extremely windy outside, the boy’s hair seemed to be in perfect place, and he seemed to be wearing body-clinging clothes under his opened heavy robes.

“Uhh hi, actually—“

“Well, it’s such a shame you’re by yourself Harry,” Cormac continued. “After all, a cute boy like you can’t possibly handle being alone, can he?” He smirked. Harry could have sworn he saw Cormac’s teeth twinkle at him.

“Well actually—“

“Because I thought if you weren’t doing anything we could… hang out, you know,” Cormac smiled.

Harry felt awkward. “Umm Cormac. I’m sorry but… I already have a boyfriend. … and it’s serious.”

“What?” Cormac said flatly. “Don’t tell me it’s Ron! He steals my Keeper position and now he has _you!_ The first boy who’s also gay and he’s taken!” Cormac raged “I swear that Weasley—“

“It’s not Ron,” Harry said coldly.

“Harry? Anything wrong?” Draco asked as he reappeared again with two mugs of butterbeer, his eyes falling on Cormac.

“Uhh Cormac… this is Draco… my boyfriend,” Harry said softly.

“Oh. ….fine,” Cormac said a bit too roughly. “I see how it is.” He moved to stand, but Draco stopped him. “Sit down,” he said as he took his place next to Harry, handing him his mug. “I think we need to talk,” he smiled.

“About what?”

“Well, you’re obvious depressed about some things,” Draco said.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Cormac said, his eyes shifting between Harry and Draco. “It began when he told me I couldn’t be in the Quidditch team.”

“What?” Draco asked. He turned to Harry and said, “Harry, you naughty, naughty boy! If you weren’t in your condition, I would punish you!”

“Draco!” Harry said, shocked. “Be careful with what you say!” He looked around the Three Broomsticks, relieved to see that no one apparently heard Draco.

“I’m sorry Harry,” Draco frowned. “I forgot my place. …I hate being secretive.”

“Everyone hating you,” Cormac nodded.

“Calling you disgusting” Draco said

“A pansy,” Cormac said.

“A dog…” Harry frowned.

The three boys were silent, Draco and Cormac looking at Harry. “Why is it like this?” Cormac asked.

“Dumbledore,” Draco said. “Dumbledore and the laws he had passed in the Ministry.”

“What?”

“Dumbledore,” Harry said his voice low. “They’ve passed many laws against people like us. One was actually executed.”

“You can’t be serious?” Cormac whispered, frowning. “I thought… I thought it was just me.”

“What?”

“My dad,” Cormac said. “When I told him I liked boys, he tried to… fix me.”

“How?”

Cormac frowned and shook his head. “My back,” he said emotionlessly, “I have… scars on them.”

“Oh…” Harry frowned.

“You know,” Draco said, “We’re actually looking for more people like us. …Gays like us. We’re thinking of having a little fun.”

“What type of fun?” Cormac asked.

“Getting back at Dumbledore for everything he’d done to us,” Harry said.

“Just a practice for when Harry and I take over the Ministry,” Draco said, smiling at Harry, who nodded.

“Uhh…”

“Look,” Harry said, “I’m really sorry for everything that happened Cormac, I really am, but I would really love it if you would help us.”

“Really?” Cormac smiled.

“Yeah,” Harry said, an easy smile on him. “Draco and I are looking for more guys like us, and well… I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Really?” Cormac asked, looking hopeful.

“I’m sure,” Harry smiled.

Cormac considered his offer. “I guess… I mean, I’m still a bit jealous that a Slytherin got you before me, Harry… but fine.”

“Great,” Harry smiled. “We’ll tell you more where we have somewhere more… safe to talk.”

“Okay then,” Cormac nodded. “Goodbye then Harry.”

“Bye Cormac,” Harry smiled as Cormac left, when the boy disappeared in the crowd he sighed and leaned against the wall. “I’m happy he’s gone. I feel sorry for him, but god he’s arrogant.”

“Really?”

“You should have seen the way he slid in there,” Harry said. “Shame about what happened at the trials.”

“What happened?” Draco asked.

“Hermione Confunded him during the trials,” Harry said. “He flew the complete opposite way out of the Quaffle. I’ve only learned after the fact.”

“Really? She cheated?” Draco asked.

“Yeah… that’s one of the reasons Ron’s on the team. Officially, Ron got five saved while Cormac only got four. I can’t change it without the rest of my team quitting on me because they all hate McLaggen,” Harry complained. “And besides, so far the team is good, everyone is working great with each other.”

“That’s good,” Draco smirked.

“Yeah. We’re totally going to dominate you guys during the first game,” Harry said competitively.

“Well, that’s the only place where you’ll be dominating Harry… if I let you win,” Draco smirked.

Harry laughed and took a sip from his butterbeer. “So, about this plan of yours,” he began. “There’s only five of us now, six including Adrian. What are we even going to do?”

“I’m thinking,” Draco said.

“Well… my next lesson with Dumbledore is Monday evening,” Harry said. “Maybe we can find a place to meet before then?”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded. He smirked at Harry. “But, in the meantime love, how about we celebrate a bit more about the great news?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry smiled, his hand resting on his flat stomach.

 

Adrian bit his lip as he noticed a sole owl flying into the Great Hall at lunch. The owl flew around the ceiling of the Great Hall before landing in front of Adrian, sticking it’s leg out. On it was a thick envelope. Adrian took untied it and took the letter. As soon as it was free, the owl flew away. He watched the owl fly away before turning his attention back to the letter in his hand. A surge of nervousness spiked in him as he stared at the white paper, seeing his name spelled out in his Daddy’s handwriting.

With shaky hands, Adrian opened the envelope and pulled out a folded paper.

_Adree,_

_You have to know that this is really hard for your dad and I. You know that you’re always our son, no matter what, and we weren’t hiding this information from you. We just thought that it would be better if you didn’t know this. We love you so much Adrian, and no matter what you think of your mother and father, know that you are_ our _son first._

_You were dropped off at the orphanage as a baby. Your parents are very irresponsible people whom I hope you never have the misfortune to meet. Your father is a stoner. The last we heard of him, he is somewhere off in a ditch on the streets of London asking for money while your mother is a failed singer who sings in a small club. They are awful people, Ms. Warren, the governess at the orphanage told us about them before we adopted you. I still remember the look of disgust on her face when she told us about them. Your mother was around twenty when she had you. Such an inconsiderate girl, all she wanted to get rid of you like you didn’t even matter! Just thinking about it is making me angry!_

_Sorry I broke a pencil. Anyway, your mother was only twenty when she had you and your father was twenty two. They’re not from here, thank God, just the thought that we had to share our town with moronic vagabonds like that makes my skin crawl. It’s impossible for those two to come from the same school like you Adree, you are so much smarter than the both of them put together._

_Anyway, some exciting news. Your cousin Mary heard about you going to Hogwarts (Daddy had too much wine over at Uncle Jack’s house) and, well she wanted to draw you a picture. And, we’ve just confirmed with your Uncle Vince and Aunt Laura that we’re going to their house for Christmas break! I know it’s been a long time since we’ve saw them and I also know that you’ve been itching to see your cousin Logan again!_

_We’ll see you at Christmas Adrian. Study hard, stay safe, and remember we love you!_

_Daddy and Dad_

So there it was, Adrian’s parents. Adrian read the section a couple of times. He didn’t feel anything. No closure, no relief, or even any satisfaction. The information was just there…and he felt nothing. “I guess I can show this to Draco when he comes back,” Adrian muttered to himself.

At least he was going to his cousin Logan’s for Christmas. That made him happy. Logan lived in Ottery St Catchpole, so the two barely saw each other. Adrian remembered that they used to send letters to each other all the time. Maybe he should send Logan a letter… maybe ask him how it was being a teenager since Logan was a couple of years older than him. He heard one of Logan’s neighbor’s son passed away a couple of years ago, so maybe he should see how Logan is doing. He wondered if Logan knew the family. What was the name again? … Adrian couldn’t think of it, so he just shrugged and looked at the drawing.

A shadow fell upon Adrian, and he turned to see Crabbe and Goyle standing in front of him. He flinched, and squinted his eyes shut as he prepared for a beating, but it never came. Instead they just stood there… never looking at him and never speaking. “Uhh…” Adrian said, confused.

“King told us not to talk,” one of them said, the other nodding with a grunt.

“Oh,” Adrian said. He tried his best to ignore them as he looked at the picture, a childish rendition of Adrian wearing a black witch’s hat, a broom in one hand, wand in the other as a black cat stood next to him. It was a bit bothersome and awkward, Adrian admitted, but it was nice that Draco was looking out for him.

He turned his attention and smiled at Charlie. Maybe he can get away from the two trolls and spend the rest of the day with him.


	12. It Begins

Chapter XII

It Begins

“I’m a Muggleborn,” Adrian stated. He was sitting in his throne with Draco. It was later that same day, and the Slytherin Common room was empty except for them and Blaise. “My dads brought me a letter. Here,” he said, handing it to Draco. Blaise stood from his armchair and read over Draco’s shoulder.

When they were done Draco looked at Adrian and said, “They’re right, you are better than these two people.”

“Thanks,” Adrian smiled. He looked at the two Slytherins and asked, “So… what now?”

“Now? We move as normal,” Draco said, folding the letter. He gave it back to Adrian and said, “So how is your situation with your dormmates going?”

“I didn’t do anything yet,” Adrian admitted. “I’m waiting for later.”

“Later?”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded, smiling. “Hit them when they don’t expect it. Right?”

“Of course,” Draco nodded. “As for now, we need to look for a place.”

“A place for what?” Adrian asked.

“A place where we can meet,” Draco said. “We need to start fighting against Dumbledore and the Ministry.”

“Really?” Adrian asked. “I haven’t see any of the horrible things you told me about Dumbledore. Only our dormmates. …”

“Trust me Adrian, Dumbledore is awful,” Draco said. “We need to stop him _before_ he does any of the horrible stuff.”

“Why are you motivated so suddenly? I thought we were going to take our time,” Blaise commented.

Draco looked at Blaise and smiled. “It’s because of Harry,” he said. “He’s pregnant.”

“What!?”

“Yeah! Harry’s pregnant,” Draco smiled.

Adrian looked between the two wizards and frowned. “How is that possible Draco? I thought only girls can get pregnant. That’s what my Dad and Daddy told me—how do they even get pregnant Draco?”

The two Slytherins looked at the little Adrian and blushed as they shared a look, both remembering the age and innocence of their little Prince. “Well, wizarding males are just able to carry children like women do,” Draco said. “It just doesn’t happen because of Dumbledore and the Ministry. Bad things happened to wizards who were found pregnant. That’s why I want to get this over with, just so we can avoid those problems.”

“But what about Hogwarts? What about school?” Adrian asked. “You’re both only sixteen years old! You’re both too young to have a baby! And what happens if other people find out? My Aunt had a baby and she swelled up like a _balloon_!”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded, worried as much as a worried eleven year old can be. “What if something happens to Harry—to the baby? Is this really the right time for it?”

“Dear God you’re right,” Draco said, slumping in his chair; his face pale as chalk. “I need to talk to Harry about this—this is terrible!”

Draco jumped in the air and ran out of the common room. He ran out of the dungeons, not caring about the noise he was making as he took the steps two at a time. He pushed remaining students away as he began to climb the Grand Staircase, needing to reach the seventh floor. When he reached the fifth, he looked to see his love running down the stairs, looking equally frightened. “We need to talk,” they both said at the same time when they’ve reached each other.

“Room of Requirement,” Draco said. Harry nodded and the two raced towards the room. As soon as they were in it, both boys stared at each other, before again speaking at the same time.

“I need an abortion!”

“You need an abortion!”

“What?” they both yelled.

“Draco, it’s dangerous for us to have a baby now! Not only are we still just students but if anyone finds out that I’m pregnant we could die!” Harry said.

The two boys stared at each other, paralyzed with fear. They don’t know how to act, or what to say to the other. “We need to have an abortion,” Harry said. “It should be easy, right? I mean, I am what… six or so weeks pregnant? It can’t be more than what, a few things put together? Not very human-like is it?”

“No, you’re right,” Draco said. “But where will we have—how can we have it? I’m sure neither of us knows how to perform an abortion. Do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Harry frowned. He paced around the room, his arms crossed, brow furrowed as he muttered to himself. Draco watched Harry as he paced, lost in thoughts also. “There needs to be a spell or something, right? I mean, we just need to pull it out of me right?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” Draco nodded, biting his lower lip. “There has to be a way to get it out of you without anyone noticing. Maybe our Lord will know a way,” Draco suggested.

“Maybe,” Harry nodded. “Is there a way to reach my mentor? I thought the Ministry watches the Floo Network.”

“And many Death Eaters work in the Ministry,” Draco said. He looked around the bare Room of Requirement and frowned. “This is the first time there is nothing in here. … We need a fireplace first.”

“A fireplace, yeah…” Harry said, his mind still in a terrified mush as he tried to connect even the most basic thoughts. “Uhh fireplace, fireplace, fireplace—“ A fireplace appeared on the far wall, as well as a jar of dark-green powder.

“Harry, before we use it, we both need to calm down,” Draco said. Harry nodded and they both held hands as they tried to synchronize their breathing. Their chests kept pumping, Harry’s forehead drenched with a cold sweat as he thought of the little thing inside of him. He can’t have a baby. Not now, not when he’s a Hogwarts student—not when Dumbledore is still living. Abortion. He needs an abortion. Then, he can fight.

“Harry, calm down,” Draco said softly. He wiped the edge of his robes across Harry’s forehead and pulled him closer. “Come on Harry, we need to be calm. If our Lord sees that we are like this, if he sees that we are worried, he will think we’re weak. And trust me, the last thing we need is our Lord to think we are weak—or worse, that Dumbledore had found out about us.”

“I know… I’m fine…I am,” Harry said, mentally preparing himself to talk with his mentor. “Maybe it would be best if we go to Malfoy Manor, and not just talk through the floo?”

“Yeah, that sounds better,” Draco nodded. “I’m sure that that’s possible.” With Harry under his arm, Draco walked to the fireplace and took a fistful of floo powder. They both stepped into the fireplace, and Draco threw the powder down, yelling “Malfoy Manor!”

Green flames soar into the fireplace, covering both boys; then vanished.

 

“Are you sure that is what you heard?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes Headmaster,” Mundungus Fletcher said, nodding. The short wizard said. “Saw it with me own eyes meself. Harry and Malfoy sitting in a booth at the Three Broomsticks, sitting close together and everything. I thought it was odd, so I sat in the booth next to theirs, my back was to them so they didn’t see me; anyway I was curious to see why they were there, right, so I listened in to them. Potter’s pregnant with Malfoy’s seed and their both poofs.”

“This is troubling,” Dumbledore said, frowning. “I had an inkling of a thought that Harry might be perverted, but I hoped to be wrong. … You are certain that he is pregnant?”

“Hear it from the poofs’ mouths themselves,” Fletcher said. “They even started to name the thing. What was it—Scorpius James, or James Scorpius whatever the order, it seems that spawn is here to stay.”

“That is especially troublesome,” Dumbledore said gravely. “There is no way he can fight Voldemort if he is heavily pregnant.”

“I say,” Fletcher muttered.

“We need to do something about this predictament,” Dumbledore muttered. “Harry is gay, and he is pregnant. … I wish I do not have to do this, but Mundungus, do you still connected with Miss Skeeter?”

“That woman? Yeah she still owes me a favor,” Fletcher said. “Why? Whatchu thinking about?”

“We need to discourage this type of behavior in both Harry as well as any other perverted students that are in my school,” Dumbledore said. “It distracts him, makes him vulnerable and weak.”

“So what? You want me to tell the Skeeter woman?” Fletcher asked.

“Yes, that seems to be the most direct course of action to take,” Dumbledore nodded. “In the meantime, I will take action to help Harry with his condition.”

“Alright Dumbledore, alright. Night then,” Fletcher said making his way to the fireplace.

“Good night Fletcher,” Dumbledore said as the short man disappeared in green flames. Alone, the old man leaned against his chair, placing his hands together as he plotted. “Pregnant. Harry, why did you this? Is this something that I should have noticed before? Something that I needed to stop? This is a dark path Harry…”

 

Malfoy Manor for some reason smelled like food. Harry and Draco were confused as they’ve walked through the fireplace, the smell throwing them off, and calming Harry instantly. Draco checked his watch and frowned. “It’s too late for mother and father to be eating dinner,” he commented. “It’s near ten.”

“Maybe the other Death Eaters in here are eating,” Harry suggested. “Or the elves?”

“No, the elves are scheduled to have their dinner an hour after ours,” Draco said, shaking his head. The two moved out of Lucius Malfoy’s empty office and into the main foyer. Finding no signs of life, both boys decide to continue following the smell, walking through a door and down a few corridors.

They finally found the source in a second smaller dining room where they have saw a scene Harry never thought possible: Lord Voldemort was eating. Actually eating, an old tome opened in front of him as he cut off a small piece of meat and ate it. The two boys stood in the doorway awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed until they’ve felt a pull from their navel and were forced into the room. “It is rude to stare at a person eating, Malfoy,” Voldemort said as he looked up from his dinner. “You are lucky, though, that you are you. Otherwise, the intruder would have been rightfully punished.”

“R-right… thank you my lord,” Draco stuttered. He looked at Harry and jerked his head towards Voldemort.

“We need your help,” Harry stated.

“What happened?”

Harry took a breath. “I’m pregnant. And I need your help to perform an abortion.”

Voldemort stared at the two of them. “How did this happen?” He demanded. “Are you two actually stupid enough to screw around and get pregnant in the middle of your mission!?”

Harry glared at his mentor, his hand tight on his wand. “It was my fault,” Harry said. “It has been a long time since we even touched each other, we were always so careful to make sure nobody sees us that when we were finally alone I needed my boyfriend.”

“And that required you both to have sexual intercourse and get my apprentice pregnant?” Voldemort demanded.

“I’m sorry my lord,” Draco bowed.

“It’s not his fault, like I said,” Harry said. “We need to fight Dumbledore and the pregnancy will only hinder that. I need to get an abortion.”

Voldemort glared at the both of them. “I should have you both killed for daring to speak to me in that matter. But instead, I will help you. I abhor pregnancies, if it were up to me the whole concept would be made illegal. But, luckily I have a follower who is a trained Healer. I will get in contact with him and he will perform the abortion.”

“Thank you,” Harry breathed.

“Make sure never to disturb me like this again. The next time I see both of you, it will be on my terms. Understand?”

“Yes my lord,” Draco bowed.

“Yes,” Harry simply said.

Voldemort silently dismissed them, returning his attention to the tome he was reading. Both boys glanced at each other before sharing a small smile, falling into each other’s arms when they were in the corridor. “It’s done,” Harry breathed.

“Crisis adverted,” Draco nodded. Harry looked down at his stomach and patted it. “Sorry, it’s not the right time for you. We’re too young.”

“We’ll try again when we’re older love,” Draco said. “Maybe twenties?”

“Yeah… twenties sounds so much better than sixteen,” Harry chuckled. He rested his head against Draco’s shoulder and looked around as they walked. The corridors were cold, painted in dark colors with old and ancient artifacts dressing them. “Draco? I love you but I hate your house,” Harry commented. “It’s too big and cold.”

“I know, baby,” Draco said. “Which is why, when all of this is over and we graduate, I’ll by a perfect house for us. Just me and my Baby.”

“And James Scorpius,” Harry chuckled.

“Yes, and Scorpius James. Though, he’ll come after we’ve gotten use to our house for a few years,” Draco said. Harry looked up and kissed Draco’s smooth cheek.

“Can’t wait.”

 

“Wait! You mean Harry’s going to go through with the abortion?” Sam gasped. “That’s horrible!”

“Really?” the storyteller asked, leaning back in his chair. “Why is it so?”

“Because there’s a baby in Harry, right? Why can’t he just have the baby and take care of Dumbledore at the same time?” Sam asked, looking around the crowd for support. “Right?” she asked them.

“Sam, it doesn’t work that way,” Tommy Finnigan said. “There’s no way Harry’s going to have a baby and go against Dumbledore! It’s not possible!”

“But still—there’s a baby living inside Harry and they’re going to kill it,” Sam cried.

“You stupid idiot, this is all in the past, it already happened,” Flint sneered. He looked at the storyteller and said, “Why don’t we just continue already?”

“Alright, alright,” the storyteller said. He looked around at the crowd he had gathered in the pub. He couldn’t believe that just two hours ago it was just him and the children, but now it seemed like the whole town was sitting in front of him, waiting to listen to his honeyed words. “Well, let’s see… I’m sorry Sam, but all of this had already happened, and it is all true. Adrian Ashford had been revealed to be a Muggleborn all along, not that it changed his relationship with Draco and Harry, and Harry and Draco were set about Harry having the abortion. After their talk with the Dark Lord, both boys returned to Hogwarts, luckily flooing back into the Room of Requirement. Before they’ve turned their separate ways to Gryffindor Tower and the Slytherin Dungeon, Draco had a revelation.”

 

“Why don’t we have the meetings here?” Draco asked.

“What?”

“Here! In the Room of Requirement,” Draco said. “Just like last year with you and that ragtag group you called ‘Dumbledore’s Army.’”

“Oh yeah, that,” Harry nodded. “I’m not really liking the name of that all of a sudden.”

“Right, so we can have the meetings here. It worked for you guys till that Edgecombe girl betrayed you all to us,” Draco said. “This time, we’ll just have to make sure no one betrays us, and that’ll be an easy job.”

“How is that?” Harry asked.

“Simply baby, you have me now,” Draco smirked. “Let Papa Draco handle everything, and you’ll be very happy.”

Harry smacked his shoulder playfully and grinned. “You are not calling yourself that!” he said. “But yeah… yeah I think this is a great idea. I’ll tell Cormac and Ron about it tonight.”

“And I’ll tell Blaise and Adrian,” Draco smiled. “Tomorrow at five at night. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harry nodded.

Just as they promised, both boys told the others about their plan. The four agreed quickly, Cormac looking very excited about the whole idea. Harry and Draco fell asleep in their beds, feeling rather accomplished as well as exhausted, their worries slipping away into peaceful dreams.

The next morning, Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione eating breakfast when the owls came, all dropping a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of each student. On the front page of the Prophet was a picture of Harry, with the headline “ _The-Boy-Who-Sleeps-Around? Harry Potter’s Secret Perversion comes to Light!”_

Ice cold horror sank into Harry as he stared at the newspaper, his eyes turning to Dumbledore who was sipping tea. “Harry… what is this?” Hermione asked worried. “What does the paper mean by perversion?”

Harry turned away from her, instead looking at Ron, who shared an equally horrified look. Without answering Hermione, Harry followed what the entire Great Hall did, and read the article.

_Harry Potter, famed for being the ‘Chosen One’ and fighting off Death Eaters and You-Know-Who for his entire life, lives a secret life. A perverted life, a life that is both very wrong and very sad. Potter, age sixteen and currently known for dating fellow Gryffindor Ginny Weasley, seems to have a lot of explaining to do as it is revealed by a reliable source that he is apparently in a relationship with another boy! This relationship, called a poof’s relationship thought they are also known as homosexuals, seems to be happening under poor Ginny’s nose, and from what my source is telling me, it is very serious._

_Now, as we all know, homosexual relationships are outlawed by Ministry laws deeming them harmful, inhumane, immoral, as well as a definite connection to the Dark Arts. These laws started in the 1800s, but came in full strength with the help of Albus Dumbledore, past Minister Millicent Bagnold, and current Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. These three upholders of moral (now two due to the unfortunate passing of Millicent Bagnold in 1990) have kept the homosexual threat away from our lovely, neat Wizarding Community. But that raises one question: How did Harry Potter become stuck in that threat?_

_Well readers, the answer might be the boy he was with. Though the source refuse to give us the boy’s name, he had revealed that the boy Harry was caught with is in fact a Slytherin! The scandals keep rising as Harry and this Slytherin met at the Three Broomsticks during the school’s first outing to Hogsmeade for the school year. Luckily for them, and us, their meeting was overheard by our source, and he spilled everything during our late night meeting. There are so many other shocking facts, that one article cannot simply hold them! So tomorrow, I will reveal Harry Potter’s shocking secret that he wants no one to know!_

_But for now, a personal message to Harry Potter. Harry! Turn away from the homosexual threat: it will only lead to bad things! Don’t end up like a pansy poof like the boy you’ve met. He’s not for you, he is wrong for you. Wrong for anyone! If you continue to be corrupted by this boy, dangerous things will happen—wrong things! We all know the risks and you need to get rid of him entirely. Call him out, throw him in Azkaban! You have a nice, loving relationship with Ginny Weasley according to my sources. Do you really want to throw that away?_

“Harry? Please tell me that this article isn’t true,” Hermione pleaded. Harry looked between her and Dumbledore, who seemed pleased in a hurt way.

“So what if it is?” he asked emotionlessly.

“Harry—you can’t be gay! You can’t be!” Hermione said. “It’s impossible, you don’t have the voice, the mannerism, the interests—it is impossible for you to be gay.”

“Well he is,” Ron said, his voice high as he fought back something. “Harry’s gay Hermione… and I am too.”

“Ron, don’t be ridiculous—“

“He’s right, we’re gay,” Harry said loudly. With an angry bang, he stood up and glared at Dumbledore before looking at the rest of the Great Hall. It was quiet as a graveyard, all eyes on him like silent specters, waiting for a confirmation or a lie. “I’m gay,” Harry said loudly. “Everything this horrible woman said is true! Are you happy?” He yelled, his voice reaching everyone, but eyes burrowing into Dumbledore.

Dumbledore met his gaze and said, “Ten points from Gryffindor, for disrupting the Great Hall.”

Ten small rubies moved from the bottom of Gryffindor’s hourglass back to the top, but Harry didn’t care. He looked down at Ron and muttered “See you later,” before walking out. Ignoring everyone Harry made his way up the Grand Staircase, barked the password to the Fat Lady when he reached the seventh floor, and made his way to his dormitory. Knocking away the clothes on the top of his trunk, Harry knelt down and opened it. Shoving away his textbooks, quills, rolls of parchment and clothes, Harry started to pull out boxes and boxes of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products. He was hoping that he could have started using these later, but now he had no choice. Both he and Draco were lax, they were passive as Dumbledore planned this. They were stupid to think that he wouldn’t try anything. But now, now Harry was determined to make up for lost time. Stacking the boxes and carrying them, Harry turned from his bed and started his way towards the Room of Requirement.

It was time for him to fight back.


	13. Family and Meeting

Chapter XIII

Family and Meeting

The sky over Little Hangleton was clear as two wizards walked down hand-in-hand. Adrian Balk smiled as he leaned on his boyfriend, looking up at Lord Voldemort. The two sixteen year olds had a dark agenda as they walked with a purpose. Tonight is the night Adrian’s love learns about his family. Adrian smiled at Voldemort and said, “I’m really thankful for you bringing me with you Marvolo,” he smiled.

“Of course I would bring you with me,” Voldemort said, giving him a rare smile he only showed Adrian. “You are my love, my eternity. We are going to rule this miserably backwards community together. It is only natural that you accompany me with every step I take.”

Adrian nodded and smiled as Voldemort brought his hand to his lips and kissed it. “I wonder what the Gaunts will be like,” he mused. “They’re the only surviving family directly related to Salazar Slytherin.”

“I know,” Voldemort nodded, taking on a serious demeanor that Adrian loved. “It would be nice to learn more about my family.”

“This street,” Adrian pointed out. The two walked down the corner and immediately saw a grand manor down the road, as well as a decrepit old hut. “That can’t be right,” Adrian frowned. “Marvolo… he cannot live there, can he?” Adrian looked at his lover.

Voldemort had a stern, angry expression on his face as he stared at the old house, which was overrun with vines and plants; dead snakes stuck on the walls and door. Fire burned in Voldemort’s eyes that quickly turned into an icy-cold. Adrian watched as Voldemort’s expressions disappeared behind an emotionless mask. “Adrian,” he said, his commanding voice sending a shiver down his lover’s spin. “Stay behind me, and keep your wand out.”

“Yes Marvolo,” Adrian nodded as he pulled out his wand.

He followed his boyfriend towards the small house. The cold trees cast deep, dark, cold shadows, the house hiding underneath. The walls were mossy and many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime. Adrian gave a noise of disgust. “This is a disgrace to Slytherin,” he sneered at Voldemort.

Voldemort nodded, clearly disappointed at the place. He raised his hand and knocked loudly. Both boys heard movement and the door creaked open. Voldemort’s eyes moved slowly around the hovel and then found a man in the armchair, having a wand in his right hand and a short knife in his left. For a few seconds they looked at each other, then the man staggered upright, the many empty bottles at his feet clattering and tinkling across the floor.

“YOU!” he bellowed. “YOU!”

And he hurtled drunkenly at Voldemort, wand and knife held aloft.

_“Stop.”_

Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue, sending familiar sexual shivers in Adrian. The man skidded into the table, sending moldy pots crashing to the floor. He stared at Voldemort. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other. THe man broke it.

“ _You speak it?”_

 _“Yes, I speak it,”_ Voldemort said. He moved forward into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind Adrian. His face expressed disgust and disappointment as he looked around. _“Where is Marvolo?”_ he asked.

 _“Dead,_ ” the other said. _“Died years ago, didn’t he?”_

Voldemort frowned. Adrian waited quietly knowing that his lover will translate when he will.

_“Who are you then?”_

_“I’m Morfin, ain’t I?”_

_“Marvolo’s son?”_

_“’Course I am, then…”_

Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face,, the better to see Voldemort and Adrian, and Adrian noticed that he was wearing a black-stoned ring on his right hand that looked familiar.

“Peverell’s ring,” he couldn’t help but whisper. “I’ve read many descriptions about it.”

 _“I thought you was that Muggle,”_ Morfin said. _“You look mighty like that Muggle.”_

 _“What Muggle?”_ Voldemort asked sharply.

 _“That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way,”_ Morfin said, and he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. Adrian moved to aim his wand at the man who dared spit near his Dark Lord, but Voldemort stopped him. _“You look right like him. Riddle. But he’s older now, in ‘e? He’s older’n you, now I think on it …”_

Morfin looked slightly dazed and swayed a little, still clutching the edge of the table for support. Adrian just stared down at him in disgust. _“He come back, see,”_ he added stupidly.

Voldemort was gazing at Morfin as though appraising his possibilities. Now he moved a little closer and said, _“Riddle come back?”_

 _“Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!”_ Morfin said, spitting on the floor again. _“Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where’s the locket, eh, where’s Slytherin’s locket?”_

Voldemort did not answer. Morfin was working himself into a rage again; he brandished his knife and shouted, _“Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who’re you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It’s over, innit. …It’s over…”_

He looked away, staggering slightly, and Voldemort moved forward, stunning the man. The Guant fell on the floor stunned. Adrian glared down and sneered. “You should have killed him,” he said.

“No little one,” Voldemort said, shaking his head. “This one still has use for us.” He bent down and took Morfin’s wand as well as the ring.

“What did you two talked about, Marvolo?” Adrian asked.

“This pathetic excuse of a wizard is not Marvolo,” Voldemort said. “He is my uncle, Morfin. Marvolo is dead. They are my mother’s family. My father is a Muggle.”

“No…” Adrian said, anger and heartbreak in his voice. “A Muggle? How dare a Muggle be related to you the greatest Dark Lord the Wizarding Community has ever known! You are the heir of Slytherin, a muggle cannot be your father—“

“Hush love,” Voldemort said. He smirked sweetly as he placed a long finger on Adrian’s lips. He pulled Adrian towards him and kissed him. Adrian melted in the kiss and wrapped his arms around his Lord.

“So… are we going to visit the Riddles?” Adrian asked.

“Yes, we will,” Voldemort nodded. “I believe it is time for me to meet my father. Come on love.”

“I’m always behind you,” Adrian said.

Holding Morfin’s wand and ring, Voldemort escorted his Adrian out of the disgusting hovel and back onto the small dirt road. They were both quiet as they’ve made their way towards the expansive Riddle house. There was a hill on the side of the manor, and Voldemort decided to climb it. They’ve reached an elegant garden at the top of the hill, neatly clipped hedges separating the garden from the hill. Adrian stepped forward and used his wand to cut away at the hedges, clearing a path for them both. Voldemort smiled a thanks and took Adrian’s hand again as they’ve entered the garden, the light provided by the half-moon that hung high above the sky.

They found doors that Riddle used Morfin’s wand to unlock and entered inside. Voldemort stopped and turned to Adrian. “My love, I would understand if you would want to wait here as I take care of business,” he said.

Adrian shook his head. He smiled and lightly placed his hand about Voldemort’s so that they were both holding Morfin’s wand. “No,” he said. “I told you I’m always behind you Marvolo. You are my Dark Lord, and more importantly you are my lover. Everything you do, I will be at your side helping you every step of the way.”

Voldemort smiled and kissed Adrian deeply. “That’s what I was hoping to hear my love. Come.”

The garden connected to a backroom that was empty. Lavishly furnished with old furniture, the boys ignored it as they’ve began their search for Voldemort’s father. Luckily, it took them no time at all as the back room connected to a small room with three armchairs surrounding a fireplace. In those armchairs sat three people, one of which Adrian recognized immediately as Voldemort’s father due to the many similarities between the two. The other two people were older looking, with grey hair and wrinkles. Voldemort stared down at them all, pocketing Gaunt’s ring and his personal wand.

It took the occupants a couple of minutes to even notice the intruders. Voldemort’s father noticed them and stood quickly, “Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing in our house?”

Voldemort smirked. “I am Lord Voldemort. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. My mother is Merope Gaunt, and my father is you. And this… this is Adrian Balk. My lover, and soon husband.”

“This is very wrong!” the old woman said. “Both you boys get out now before I call the police—“

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” Voldemort yelled, using Morfin’s wand to kill his grandmother. Before his grandfather or father could react, he aimed the wand at his grandfather and casted the Killing Curse again.

“You—you—“

Adrian flicked his wand and Tom Riddle Sr. was thrust against the wall, his glass of brandy falling on the carpet and staining it. Adrian looked at lover and smiled a cruel smile. “Can I please have some fun?” he asked sweetly.

“You may,” Voldemort nodded. “But make sure to heal any marks you’ve made.” He gave Adrian Morfin’s wand.

Adrian smiled and kissed Voldemort. “I will, my lord,” he said. Voldemort smiled approvingly and moved towards the bar to pour himself a glass of brandy.

“What is the meaning of all this—what are you two?” Tom Riddle Sr. demanded.

“Wizards,” Adrian said. “You should be proud. Your son is going to be the greatest Dark Wizard in known history. Together we are going to rule the Wizarding Community and everything will change.”

“Please love, do not give the dead speeches,” Voldemort said. He moved towards the armchairs and sat in one of them, crossing his leg over the other as he watched intently.

Adrian smiled as he looked at the Muggle. He wanted to impress his lover. With his wand pointed at the Muggle, Adrian said “ _Incarcerous!_ ”

Thick ropes appeared out of thin air and tied themselves around the Muggle, bounding him to the wall. Adrian stared at the Muggle, at a lost for what to do first. Giving a soft smile Adrian walked up to the Muggle and caressed his cheek softly. “So much like Marvolo’s,” he whispered. “You should be honored. Your son and I are going to become the most powerful wizards in the world. I don’t like hurting Marvolo, and it’s going to be hard hurting you since you look so much like my love, but I will try my best. _Crucio!_ ”

Tom Riddle Sr. screamed, his voice filling the halls as he tried to writhe and struggle out of the ropes. Adrian kept the spell going, Riddle’s screams filling his ears. The stopped abruptly and looked at his Marvolo. “Marvolo, shouldn’t we have set up barriers just in case someone else is here?” he asked.

“I’ve already done that my love,” Voldemort smiled. “Now continue, please. You’re performing beautifully.”

Smiling at the praise, Adrian doubled his efforts, casting the Cruciatus Curse, imagining not his lover’s father in the ropes, but their Transfiguration Teacher Albus Dumbledore. Soon Tom Riddle Sr.’s voice turned hoarse, and his screams started to die out, instead just coming out as choked gargles as spit filled his throat. The man’s eyes started to bulge out of his face, and his mouth was locked open a mixture of blood and spit dripping out of the sides. Adrian, not a personal fan of blood, wiped it all away. He turned towards the two corpses and had an idea. “Muggle,” he said. “These are your parents, correct?” he asked.

Tom Riddle Sr. struggled to lift his head up. He moved his mouth with great effort but only the faintest of sounds can be heard. Adrian turned his attention away from the Muggle and looked at Voldemort.

“Marvolo,” he asked in a curious, casual tone, “what was the spell that raised the dead again?”

“If you are talking about Necromancy, my love, it would take too long to turn these two in our obedient servants,” Voldemort said.

“I know but it will only last for five minutes,” Adrian said.

“Then _Inferius_ ,” Voldemort said. “It is the beginning spell of the complex ritual I’ve read about.”

“Thank you,” Adrian said. He pointed at the two grandparents and said, “ _Inferius_!” Dark tentacle-like things shot out of Morfin’s wand and impaled the two bodies, hooking around the legs and arms like a puppet’s string. The two bodies shook and shambled as they rose inhumanly, swaying lifelessly, heads just hanging before staring up at their son. Before Adrian had them move, however, they were interrupted by a female voice that called out, “Tom? Tom was that you? I thought I heard something… is your father and mother asleep?”

A beautiful woman around Voldemort’s father’s age walked into the room looking as if she had just woken up. It took her a few seconds to see the intruders, and she was about to scream before Voldemort, using his own wand, stunned her. “Who is this?” he demanded of his father. “Speak!”

Tom Riddle Sr. stared down at his son and spat, “My wife. I’ve married her the moment I’ve gotten my senses back from that horrible hag you call a mother.” He seemed to regain some strength as he started to struggle again. Adrian walked towards the woman and bent down, examining her. “Don’t touch her!” The muggle screamed.

“You love her… don’t you,” Adrian said softly. He looked at the muggle and with sudden and intense anger yelled out, “Why? Why is it right for you to be married to this woman but so wrong for me to marry my love? What makes you two so special? What the hell do you have that Marvolo and I lack?”

“Common decency you faggot,” Tom Riddle Sr. snarled. “You miserable, disgusting faggot. When the police come here I hope they kill you on the spot!”

Something clicked inside Adrian. Voldemort watched his lover as the small boy walked towards the standing corpses and reached for two candlesticks. He transfigured them into large butcher knives and gave them to the two. Voldemort saw that his love was shaking, his entire body couldn’t stop still as ever inch, especially his lungs and heart vibrated with a powerful emotion that Voldemort recognized immediately. “Face me,” he ordered Adrian.

Adrian obeyed and Voldemort saw the tears that dared to fall, his dull blue eyes filling with water, giving them a sad, angry shine. He looked up at Voldemort, his mouth moving soundlessly as he tried to sound out syllables. Voldemort understood and stood up. He slipped Morfin’s wand out of Adrian’s grasp and pointed it at the beautiful woman. He revived her, and forced her stuck against her husband, tied to the wall by invisible rope. “Kill her,” Adrian ordered, his voice breaking.

“No don’t! Mother Father—“ Tom Riddle Sr. yelled out, but his voice was drowned by the sounds of screams as the two inferus moved quickly towards the woman and started stabbing her; the wet, slick sounds of the knives going in and out of her body only emphasized her screams.

It was only then that Adrian broke down, clinging to Voldemort as he cried, holding on to his beloved as if he was the only one keeping Adrian from slipping to the dark void of anxious insanity. Adrian hiccupped as he felt warm arms surround him, Voldemort pulling his little boy closer. Adrian smiled at he continued to cry. He was the only one Voldemort ever showed emotions to; he was special… he was Marvolo’s and Marvolo was his.

Adrian continued to cry as the woman slacked against her invisible restraints, blood pooling on the floor below and splattering all against the walls and her husband. Voldemort did not miss a beat. Holding Adrian to him with one hand, he cleaned up the mess, transfigured the woman’s body into a bone that he dropped in the empty fireplace, lit the fire, and killed his father with a Killing Curse.

The dead surrounding them forgotten, Voldemort pocketed Morfin’s wand and turned his entire attention on his love. “Adrian, my sweet, my love,” he purred softly, “it’s okay now. They’re all gone. Everything is fine.”

Adrian sniffled and looked up at Voldemort. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I messed up, I’ve let him get to me… I just remembered—“

“It is alright Adrian, everything is all right,” Voldemort said. “You have done beautifully. I wanted to keep you separated from this, but you have proven your love to me, your loyalty to me. Everything you’ve done was for me, wasn’t it?”

“It is,” Adrian sniffled. “I love you Marvolo.”

“And I love you Adrian. “You are the only person I truly care about. I would destroy this entire world if only to keep you safe.”

“Marvolo…” Adrian breathed.

“Tom,” Voldemort said. “The Riddle family is dead, their line is gone. So I think it might be time that we take the name and turn it into our own. My name is Tom Riddle, my love.”

“Mar—Tom…” Adrian breathed. Tom chuckled and pulled out the ring he stole from the Gaunts.

“You said that this is an important ring,” he said. “The Peverell Ring, correct?”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded. “That ring is said to be past down the Peverell family. See the insignia on the black stone? That’s their symbol. The family name died out long ago, but their blood still runs. If what your uncle said is true, then you are a descendant of the Peverells, and this ring belongs to you.”

Tom nodded and lightly took Adrian’s right hand. “Then, since this ring is now mine, I will do what I want with it. And what I want, Adrian, is for you to wear it.”

“Tom…”

Tom slipped the ring on Adrian’s ring finger and kissed it sweetly. “This ring will show our love when we are forced to hide it. It shows my love for you, as well as my trust and loyalty. You are the only man I will ever kneel before Adrian. Take comfort and power in that. When we win, we will be the first to marry and this ring will be your engagement. But until then, let it be a reminder to my promise to love you forever, to hold you, and to protect you in both your life and your death.”

“Adrian cried again and smiled as he hooked his arms around Tom’s neck. “Yes Tom! Yes! I love it… and I love you!”

Tom chuckled and lifted Adrian in his arms. “Come Adrian, we have one more task to perform before I ravish you. You have done very well tonight.”

Adrian smiled and rested his head on Tom’s neck, leaving lazy, sweet kisses as his lover carried him with unbelievable strength and need.

 

Voldemort stared at the fire as the memory hit him. He frowned, and thankful that he was alone. He was curious at the emotions he was showing recently; ever since he took in Harry Potter as his apprentice everything seemed to change as memories of Adrian Balk drifted towards his mind. “We never did have that wedding,” Voldemort mused. He sighed as he remembered the ring he gave Adrian perfectly. It was the second Horcrux he had made, and when he told Adrian he was holding something that held a piece of his soul… Voldemort couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered his love’s face.

A great need swelled in him. He needed that ring back, not because he was worried about the piece of his soul that rest within it, but he didn’t want to lose the only connection he had with his love. Voldemort moved, preparing to go back to Little Hangleton to retrieve it when he stopped. Dumbledore. He remembered Harry’s description of the ring Dumbledore found… “He has the ring—my ring—ADRIAN’S RING!” Voldemort yelled out. In his anger he blasted through the door and walked into the foyer. “LUCIUS!” He screamed, not caring about his openly showing emotions. That bastard has Adrian’s ring.

Lucius Malfoy appeared, looking shocked and ragged. “My—My Lord,” he breathed, clearly out of breath.

Voldemort did not care and he ordered. “Where is your son? I want him and Harry in my office now!”

“My Lord, it is only three in the morning, I am sure it is impossible that—“ Lucius’ voice stopped immediately as he caught his master’s look. “I will try and message them in the morning.”

“Good,” Voldemort said. He turned and returned to his study. Sitting in his armchair, he watched as Nagini playfully chased a rat he had released. He needed to get in contact with his apprentice and Lucius was failing him. As he watched Nagini strike at the rat and devoured it whole, he smirked as he had an idea. For some reason, he and Harry has a connection: a link that he used last year to torture the raven-haired.

He closed his eyes and mentally searched for the connection. Giving a sound of approval as he felt it, he reached for the connection and felt a sensation as his mind coupled with Harry’s. He had a brief vision of the boy’s troubled dream before diminishing it completely. Harry stood alone in the darkness, confused. “Hello?” he asked.

“Harry,” Voldemort said. Harry gasped and turned to his mentor. “Voldemort… what do you want? I thought Draco and I had a couple of nights till we’re supposed to report in.”

“You do,” Voldemort said. “But tides are turning. First off, the article in the Daily Prophet. I do not know how they have obtained that information, but it is unfortunate.”

“I know, it forced Draco and I to speed up our plans,” Harry frowned. “We were still looking for people to join us when it happened.”

“People?”

“Guys like us,” Harry said. Voldemort nodded and said, “I have a task for you and Draco, Harry. Dumbledore is in possession of a ring that does not belong to him. You must steal it and return it to me.”

“You mean the ring with the dark stone?” Harry asked. Voldemort nodded. Harry frowned, “How am I supposed to steal it? He can practically see through my Invisibility Cloak and it would be obvious that I am the one who stole it.”

“Harry,” Voldemort said sternly. “Was our month together pointless? I’ve taught you to torture, brew poisons, kill, and wipe memories. Use the skills at your disposal and get me that ring!”

Harry was quiet for a moment. He looked up at his mentor and said, “It’s Adrian’s ring, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Now get it for me.”

“I will,” Harry promised. And with that, Voldemort left his dreams.

 

The next morning, Harry ignored all the cold stares and snides his fellow Gryffindors gave him as he walked up to Cormac. “Come to the Room of Requirement in a couple of hours,” he whispered to Cormac. “Just think ‘I need the room Harry and Draco are in.’”

“Okay, thanks,” Cormac nodded. “And Harry? What you did yesterday… that was great.”

“Thank you… it was hard,” Harry said. “I’ve spent the entire day hiding away from everyone.”

“That must not have been fun,” Cormac chuckled.

“It wasn’t,” Harry said. “When I saw Hermione for dinner, I thought she would jinx me.”

“She should have fags,” someone sneered. Harry turned but didn’t see who said it.

He frowned and sighed. “Anyway… Room of Requirement in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah… I’ll see you there,” Cormac nodded. Harry gave him a smile and ran into Ron. After telling Ron the same thing, Ron walked with him, wanting to help him and Draco set up.

The two Gryffindors walked towards the Room of Requirement to see Draco and Blaise already standing there. “There are our babies,” Blaise grinned. He walked up to Ron, and much to Harry’s shock, the two boys started to kiss heavily, Ron mewling to Blaise’s touches. Harry blushed as he looked at his boyfriend.

“What’s the matter Harry?” Draco whispered. “Jealous that Blaise found his own Baby?”

“We all slept in the same room,” Harry whispered. “I’m a bit jealous…  it’s like seeing your Dad getting with a boyfriend.”

“Well you still have me, Baby,” Draco smirked. “And Daddy Draco is never leaving his Baby.”

“Stop it,” Harry blushed as he leaned against his boyfriend. “Come on, let’s go in. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay Baby,” Draco said. He shared a look with Blaise and the two couples began walking around the corridors. Each time they’ve past the wall, they all thought ‘We need a place to hide from Dumbledore, a place to keep us safe.’

On the third time, the Room’s doorways appeared and they’ve walked in. The room was long with grand archways and ornate windows that filter light in. Hanging from the ceiling was a large, crystal chandelier that had multiple candles. The candlelight reflected off of the glass and the miniature rainbows showered on the walls, dancing with the light. At the end of the room was a grand fireplace and the most comfortable loveseats Harry has ever seen. Along the walls were bookcases and old pictures of same-sex couples of the past. There was a massive rug in the middle of the room that Harry liked, and surrounding the rug were armchairs and throw pillows. Near the left side of the room was a large table and an empty bookcase big enough for Harry to store his boxes. “This is great,” Harry smiled.

“It is Baby,” Draco whispered, kissing the top of Harry’s head. The four walked in and looked around the place. “Hey, look at these,” Ron said, he and Blaise going towards the pictures. “I didn’t know there were these many gay couples at Hogwarts,” Ron said. “Is that… oh God, look Blaise it’s Charlie!”

“So,” Harry said looking up at Draco. “Think this place will do?”

“It’ll be perfect Harry,” Draco smiled.

“Great!” Harry smiled. “Anyway… let’s get things in order then I need to tell you something important.” He dug out a few tiny boxes from his pocket and placed them on the table. Tapping them with his wand, the Weasley Wizard Wheezes boxes grew to their normal size. He turned to Ron and Blaise and called out, “Guys! Can you help me place the boxes on the shelves please? They’re important.”

“Sure, anything for our little Baby,” Blaise smirked.

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh as Ron laughed. “Why are you laughing?” he demanded.

“Don’t you see it mate? You’re the youngest round here… and the smallest, so technically you are the baby,” he smirked.

Harry frowned and he chose not to reply, instead lifting a box off the table and moving it to the shelf. The four worked together and moved the many, many boxes of Weasley products onto the shelves. “We’re going to use these mainly as distractions,” Harry grunted as he lifted a particularly heavy box.

“Distractions?”

“Yeah, channel Fred and George and stuff,” Harry nodded. “That’ll at least get our ball rolling, yeah? Show Dumbledore and the others that we won’t be quiet.”

“And it’ll be very fun,” Blaise snickered. “Are these those portable swamps? I loved them last year. Watching Umbridge trying to get rid of them was hilarious.”

“Yeah well… we need Dumbledore distracted,” Harry said.

“Why?” Ron asked.

Harry looked at Draco and sighed. “I told you Ron, about how it was Dumbledore who pushed the homophobic laws? Draco and I are working together to get the laws changed. And in order to do that, we need to move Dumbledore out of the way. He has a certain ring that he stole. We need that ring.”

“Is that—“

“Yes Draco, it is,” Harry nodded.

“So we have fun pretending to be Fred and George,” Ron said, “and you and Draco do some stealing.” Ron gave a playful smirk that Fred and George would be proud of and said, “I love it!”

The four spent the next couple of hours looking around the room, Blaise and Ron looking at the pictures as Harry and Draco talk, in detail, about Voldemort’s request. When the doors opened again, Adrian Ashford walked inside followed by Cormac McLaggen. “He was following me,” he blushed, pointing at the large Gryffindor.

McLaggen smirked and gave a low whistle. “Damn this looks good,” he said. “Nice place Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

Cormac looked around and frowned. “So is it just us? I thought that more would come—“

The door opened again and much to Harry’s surprise: Seamus and Dean walked in, both boys looking nervous as they looked around. They were followed by Terry Boot and... Neville and Luna.

“Uhh hi Harry,” Seamus said. “We uh overheard you telling McLaggen about this. Your outburst yesterday inspired us.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah… we’re dating since fourth year and yesterday we spent the entire day sitting in our dorm just talking about what you did.”

“So thanks mate,” Seamus smiled with his Irish brogue.

“You’re welcome,” Harry blushed. He looked at Terry Boot, who was biting his lip, his face completely red. Harry remembered the Ravenclaw from the D.A. meetings and said, “Hi Terry.”

“Oh! Hi uhh I… I heard from Neville—well I heard Neville telling Luna about this and I thought… maybe I’ll find a place to belong yeah?” Terry blushed.

“Well, you’ll find that place here, I’m sure,” Harry said. “Why don’t you stand next Cormac?” Terry nodded and walked towards the towering hunk, blushing at his smile. He turned to Neville and Luna and said, “Hey guys, I never knew that you two…”

“Oh we’re not,” Neville said blushing. “Actually, Luna and I are dating, you know, but the article and everything the others been saying to you, about you—it’s awful you know! I uh just wanted to help you know?”

“Oh well thanks Neville,” Harry smiled, happy to see that a sane straight wizard still existed.

Luna smiled at Harry and said, “You look nice today Harry, did you know that you have small Nargles fluttering around your head?”

“What?” Harry said.

Luna did not explain her weirdness as she and Neville moved past Harry. Harry just turned around and looked at the very small group. “Right well… hello everyone, glad you can all be here. Right, um I was hoping for more people to help us, but hopefully as we go on we can find more people who are gay like us.”

“So what’s this all about?” Seamus asked. “This meeting?”

“Right. No need to sugarcoat it,” Harry said. “Draco and I are going to abolish our community’s homophobic laws. In order to do that we need to get rid, or at least discredit, those who pushed for the laws in the first place. Dumbledore is one of those people. We’re going after Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore?” Neville asked, shocked. “We’re going against our Headmaster?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “If we are going to topple the Ministry and their oppressive rule, we need to start with its pillars. Dumbledore is one of those bigger pillars. With him out of the picture, my love and I have a clear path to the Ministry.”

“With what? Harry as Minister of Magic?” Neville asked curiously.

“I would vote for him,” Cormac shrugged.

“Me too!” Terry said a bit too enthusiastically.

“No, not me. Draco,” Harry said. “He’s better at that type of stuff. Anyway, with Dumbledore gone it’ll be easy to change the Ministry.”

“What do you mean by ‘gone’?” Terry Boot asked.

“Discredited, in Azkaban,” Draco said, both he and Harry deciding it is for the better to keep white lies from them.

“The way he’s acting towards Harry, I wouldn’t mind if he’s dead,” Cormac grumbled.

“Alive or dead, we need Dumbledore gone,” Draco said. “And lucky for us, we have our first mission to do that.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “See those boxes there? They’re packed full of jokes and pranks Fred and George gave me from their shop. We’re going to just prank the castle, focusing on those most verbal about their homophobia, and divert Dumbledore’s attention. He has a ring, see? It’s on his withered, dead looking hand. He stole it, and Draco and I want to return it to the original owner.”

“Who’s the original owner?” Terry Boot asked.

“An old man who gave the ring to his boyfriend long, long ago,” Draco said smoothly. “That ring is the only memento he has of his love, and he desperately wants it back.”

“That’s horrible!”

“It is Adrian,” Harry nodded. “Which is why we agreed to get the ring back. So… can you guys help me?”

“Of course I’ll help,” Cormac smirked. He looked down at Terry Boot and nodded his head. Terry blushed but followed Cormac like a puppy, seemingly relaxing as the older Gryffindor placed a hand on his back.

The others moved as well, opening the boxes and stuffing everything they could carry into their pockets. Harry watched with a sort of weird pride as the others prepared themselves. He leaned on Draco’s shoulder as his boyfriend wrapped an arm around his waist. “We’re doing it… we’re actually doing it.”

“Yeah,” Draco breathed. “We are. Come on, we have a ring to steal.”


	14. The One Ring

Chapter XIV

The One Ring

**_HARRY POTTER: THE POOF_ **

_It is with great sorrow that we have to announce Harry Potter’s response to our recent article. Outraged by our article on the morning it came out, Harry Potter is reported to cause a disruption in the Great Hall as one reliable source told us. Our source, a lovely Slytherin girl who wishes to be anonymous, have told us that Potter jumped on the Gryffindor table in a state of outrage and “starting raving like a lunatic about how much he loves boys rather than girls and going against all laws.” The poor boy’s poofness have indeed at this point taken control of his sanity and mind, causing Harry to freak out in such an outlandish and unnecessary fashion. With this unfortunate revelation we can only wallow in grief and look back on Mr. Potter’s life for the signs we have missed._

_We have to begin with a rumor that started when Harry came to Hogwarts. That rumor being that Harry Potter was supposed to be in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat was about to sort the young Potter into Slytherin House before it stopped and sorted Harry into Gryffindor after his pleas. Slytherin, as we know, is the House of the infamous You-Know-Who, who was rumored to have a close friendship with several males in Hogwarts. This obvious connection between Harry Potter and You-Know-Who is troublesome and leads to questions of him becoming a new Dark Lord. Is The Chosen One falling to the Dark Arts? If so can he be stopped by putting him on the straight path? Harry had a history of relationships and actions that are considered odd and “dark” including confirmed rumors of him being a Parseltongue, and a secret connection between him and recently deceased Cedric Diggory._

_Two years ago, at the end of Harry Potter’s Fourth Year at Hogwarts where he forced himself into the Triwizard Tournament Harry Potter has been spending time with fellow Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory (a Hufflepuff) who had a longtime girlfriend named Cho Chang. Shortly after the first task, Diggory has been reported of whispering to Potter to visit the Prefect Bathrooms saying “it’s a nice place for a bath.” We do not know what exactly happened in the Prefect Bathroom, but it can be guessed that Potter and Cedric met up during the time, Potter spreading his foul poofness towards the poor boy like a Dark Lord uses an Imperious Curse to get their victim to do their bidding. Cho Chang reports remembering Harry Potter staring at the couple during that year, even before the Prefect Bathroom incident. At the end of the year and Triwizard Tournament, Harry and Cedric were found together, Cedric dead with Harry crying over the boy’s body. Was he crying over a dead lover, a lover that, perhaps, he had killed himself because Cedric knew they were living in filth? While both Harry and the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, linked the murder to You-Know-Who we may never know the truth. For all we know, in regards to Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, Harry committed a crime of passion and killed Diggory._

_Next there is Harry’s friendship with one Ron Weasley to consider, even more so with their apparent new friendship with Draco Malfoy. Potter’s and Weasley’s friendship started in their first year and could only be described as toxic with Harry’s horrible influence on the boy, dragging Weasley into dangerous situations and allowing the boy to be exposed to gayness. Why else could they have a separation in their Fourth Year while Harry and Cedric practiced their foul, disgusting meetings? Ron Weasley was, at that point, completely lost to the darkness of Harry’s poofness and fell into a tragic jealousy that blackened his soul. Their connection to Draco Malfoy, son of accused Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, only worries us more as it shows that Harry’s fall to the Dark Arts is not only harming him, but everyone around him._

_If Harry Potter is falling to the Dark Arts then we need to prepare. We need to consider the fact that he has already joined You-Know-Who and dragged his friend Ronald Weasley along with him. They must be saved from the Dark Influence, and Dumbledore is the only one who can do it._

“Here, look at this,” the storyteller said as he passed the article around. “This was written during Harry’s sixth year the day after the other article I’ve shown you all.” He had already read the article out loud and wanted to see if he could get any reaction from it.

The children sitting near him looked at the article for a second before handing it off to the adults in the back. Sam gasped as she looked at the article and said, “This was real!?”

“Yeah, it was,” The Storyteller nodded. A couple of the adults looked at the article and mumbled something about faintly remembering the article.

“But why?” Sam asked. “Why can’t they just leave them alone? I mean—it’s just horrible, yeah know?”

“I’ve lived through it, so yeah, I do know,” The Storyteller said.

“And I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” the girl said. “Is Adrian really a muggleborn? And the abortion—is Harry really going to kill that baby that’s living inside him? I don’t want him to kill the baby, please change it!”

“Sam you idiot, we already told you this is all in the past, it happened already,” Tommy said.

“But still, can’t he lie to us and tell us that Harry had the baby? It would look so cute I think—a little baby with two beautiful dads,” Sam said.

Tommy sighed and muttered something about his dads forbidding her to their house.

“Anyway,” The Storyteller said, looking down at Sam. “All of this is already done, besides the thing is not important. I’ve told you that I’ll tell you exactly how Dumbledore died, as well as the False Lord, and that I will do. And you should know now that Harry did have the abortion. No if’s, and’s, or buts.”

“How does the ring tie into all of this?” Tommy Finnigan asked, raising his hand.

“Well, for one it’s an act of rebellion against Dumbledore, and a way for the False Lord to tell him that he has access to where Dumbledore is most vulnerable, his office,” The Storyteller said. “Though, if you want I can skip to the very end but then nothing will make sense.”

“No!” the Children yelled out. “Don’t do that!” Flint said.

The Storyteller chuckled and looked out at his captive crowd. “Very well,” he smirked. “You all should know that it took a week for Harry’s plan to unfold, and during that life went on as normal. He ignored the articles, the papers, the constant letters that he and others were getting to warn about him. He ignored it all and, like Dumbledore, pretended that none of it happened. As you all remembered, he and Dumbledore had a meeting very soon after that his first meeting in the Room of Requirement. We’re going to skip that, it’s just them going through more memories of the False Lord as a kid, we’ve already covered that—“

“What memory?”

“When Dumbledore first met the False Lord, although he went by Tom Riddle then. This was the summer before Tom met Adrian; anyway it has been a week, see, and the False Lord contacted Harry and Draco. They’ve had a Healer who would perform the abortion. They were to sneak off late at night into the Forbidden Forest at the end of the week. There, they would Apparate to Malfoy Manor where the Healer would, well, do the abortion. It was a perfect plan, but as we all know perfect plans never work.”

 

Harry and Draco were in a deserted corridor. It was late afternoon, outside the windows the sun was setting, lighting the sky on fire with blazes of reds and oranges with pinks and purples skirting faraway as night slowly approached; the light intruded the corridors, reflecting off of the polished suits of armor and casting everything in a shimmering, moving glow or reds and orange. The boys smiled at each other as Harry leaned on Draco’s shoulder, taking advantage of their isolation. Draco’s arm was around Harry’s waist and he pulled the boy up towards him, kissing Harry sweetly. They’ve kissed again, this time Harry’s tongue darting into Draco’s mouth as he played, arousing Draco to a dance for dominance, before submitting to the Slytherin. They’ve stood there, kissing for most an hour, the orange light turning dark as night overtook the dusk. When they’ve separated, they’ve wordlessly fixed their appearances; give each other another kiss, then separated.

Harry was thankful that he didn’t run into anyone as he walked towards the Gryffindor Tower, not wanting to deal with anyone. When he said the password to the Fat Lady, he was met with silence as he walked through the portrait hole, his fellow Gryffindors giving him heated looks before looking back at whatever activity he was doing. He didn’t want to talk to any of them. Harry made his way towards the staircase to the boys’ dormitories, only to stop for a second and see Hermione by herself. She seemed to be actively ignoring him. Harry didn’t feel like trying with her, so he continued to his dormitory, stripped, and laid in bed. He took his glasses off, and closed his eyes. He heard noise and thought that it was his dorm mate, which he was grateful that they all were either gay or supportive. Deciding to ignore the noise, it must be Ron or someone just coming in, he turned to his side and tried to sleep.

The bed curtains were pushed to the side and before he could react he heard a female voice said, “Sorry. _Stupefy!_ ” Harry felt pain in his stomach, then nothing.

When Harry woke up, he was in a daze. He tried to reach for his wand only to find that he couldn’t move his arm. His vision starting to come back, Harry moved his head, groaning to see that he wasn’t in his bed anymore. He wasn’t naked under his covers like he was before, instead he wore a loose hospital gown and could barely move at all. It felt like he had no control over anything at all, he tried moving his arms, his legs, pelvis, anything but he couldn’t; it felt like a ton was resting on his entire body, spread out to keep him from moving.

“Ahh, you’re up, I am terribly sorry about this Harry, but it had to be done,” a voice said to his left. He turned to see the blurry image of Dumbledore sitting in a chair next to his bed. “Ahh yes… one second,” Dumbledore said. He moved and Harry felt his glasses placed upon him.

With a clear vision, Harry looked around to see that he was in the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore and Hermione by his side. “What am I doing here?” he demanded.

Hermione looked apologetic, still refusing to look at Harry. He turned to Dumbledore and glared at the man.

“Well Harry, it is about the baby that is currently growing inside you,” Dumbledore said. “I am sorry, and I do not know your opinion on the matter, but it would be dangerous to have a child during such a time. We have to perform an abortion. Now you will be completely safe during the procedure, the potions you have already consumed are the make this process easier, it numbed your body and resists movement.”

Harry wanted to scream at them, he wanted to tell them not to touch him, or to get away that he and Draco have their own plans for the abortion, but he couldn’t voice them. He found that his voice was gone as an intense tiredness overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry Harry,” Hermione said. “But, it’s for your own good—you’ll see. It’s too dangerous for you to have a baby right now—or any time really. I’m so sorry.”

“Now we have brought a professional to do the operation,” Dumbledore said. “Do not worry, I can guarantee you that she is the best at these sorts of things. Now, just relax and this will be over before you know it.”

Harry tried to struggle, but whatever potion they’ve fed him seemed to take full effect and he fell into darkness once more. Dumbledore and Hermione looked at the sleeping Potter. Dumbledore checked to make sure that he was fully asleep before summoning the Healer. “I am sure that you know how delicate the situation is,” Dumbledore said.

“I do,” the Healer said. She was a squat person with dingy hair. “Don’t worry Headmaster, I know what I’m doing, and I’m the best at being discrete. Now, if you two can leave so I can do my work?”

“I uh have a question,” Hermione said. “I’ve read about abortions, and since Harry obviously doesn’t have a uh birthing canal… how are you going to do it?”

“Well, I am going to have to quite literally opening Harry up and pull out the fetus,” the woman said. She gave a small, knowing smile and said, “Don’t worry miss, your boyfriend won’t be changed in _any_ way.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Hermione said. “He’s only my friend.”

“Then your friend won’t be changed in any way,” the woman corrected herself. “Now please, out, out. I need time alone with our patient here.”

Hermione nodded and left the hospital wing. Dumbledore stayed back, however, hovering over Harry. “Hopefully this will all simply breeze past us,” he said to the sleeping boy. No hard feelings Harry, but this is truly the worst time for anyone to get pregnant.” He smiled at the Healer and said, “You may begin,” before leaving.

Left alone with Harry Potter, the Healer started her work. “Don’t worry sir, after we’re done you’ll still have your penis and balls,” she said as she waved her wand, the hospital gown disappearing and revealing Harry’s naked body. She bent to the end of the bed and pulled up a bag. Placing it at Harry’s feet, she opened it and pulled out a salve and several potions. She looked around and pointed her wand at a nearby tray. The tray floated towards her, and she placed the potions and salve onto them. Pocketing her wand, she took the salve and opened the jar, taking a small handful of the dark-green gooey substance and placing it on Harry’s body. The salve landed on Harry’s stomach, and the Healer placed her hand firmly on Harry’s body, moving the salve around in slow, tense circles, spreading it around.

When the salve fully covered Harry’s flat stomach, She poked her wand at the dark-green substance and watched as a small part of it turned black. “There’s the bugger,” she said to herself. Cleaning the salve off of her hands with a towel from the bag, she collected her wand from the tray as well as one of the potions. She poured the potion onto Harry’s stomach, aiming it at the black spot, and then quickly casted a severing charm. Harry’s tummy opened up, revealing his innards to the Healer. Blood started pouring out, but with another tap of her wand, it slowed to a more manageable pace. Taking the second potion, she took her wand and coated it’s tip. Rolling the edge of her wand on the bleeding wounds, the Healer watched as the bleeding came to a complete halt as the sides closed in, a temporary layer of skin covering the exposed middle. Looking down at the womb, she noted the age of the barely human-looking fetus. “Early, that’s good. Thing’s barely a human,” she muttered to herself as she began the abortion proper.

Her wand aimed at the womb, she casted another severing charm, separating the womb from Harry’s body. Moving her wand again, the womb, and everything it used to attach itself to Harry’s body, disappeared, leaving Harry’s body and innards that of a normal male’s. She took the third potion and again dapped her wand in it. Sticking it in Harry’s body, she moved in a circle, watching as the bones and organs that moved out of the way for the small womb move back into place as Harry’s body absorbed the potion. With that done, she muttered a sewing charm and stitched Harry’s body right up as if it had never been cut opened at all. The only evidence that an operation has been performed was the dried blood on the sides of Harry’s body and bed. Closing her bag, the Healer sighed and walked away from Harry, towards the doors of the Hospital Wing.

“It’s done,” she said to Dumbledore and Hermione. “Now, I’ve left a couple of potions he should take. He will feel very weak so the left potion should revitalize his energy. There is the potion on the right, which will make sure a mistake like this will never happen again. Good bye Headmaster.”

“Yes, thank you,” Dumbledore nodded. The Healer walked past them and down the corridor as Hermione and Dumbledore moved into the Hospital Wing. Harry was still sleeping. Dumbledore looked at the two potions and then at Harry. “So it is done. Miss Granger, I would like it if you stay here during the night with Harry.

“Of course sir,” Hermione said.

“Good. I will be in my office then. Make sure that Harry takes those potions Miss Granger, it is important to his health. Good night,” Dumbledore said. He turned and left the Hospital Wing, leaving only Hermione and Harry in it. Hermione moved to the seat she was sitting beforehand and pulled a textbook out of the bag sitting on the floor.

It was past midnight when Harry woke up. Hermione reviewing the textbook and didn’t hear Harry until the boy was practically sitting up. She looked up from the book and gasped, “Harry! You’re not supposed to be sitting, you’re very weak right now, you need to lie down.” She moved to help Harry down, but Harry slapped her hands away and growled at her.

“How dare you,” He said. “How dare you do that to me. Force me to undergo this stupid operation without my consent.”

“Harry It was for your better good, Dumbledore—“

“No. You don’t talk Granger, I’m talking right now,” Harry said, his rage giving him energy as he stood up out of the bed. “How dare you and Dumbledore perform this abortion, raping my body without my consent. I don’t want to hear your greater good bullshit Granger, cause here’s the thing: Draco and I already scheduled an abortion. On Friday. We don’t need your or Dumbledore’s invasion to help us out.”

“Harry—“

“No, I told you to shut up Granger,” Harry said, “I’m not done. I just want you to know that I don’t ever want to see you trying to get in my life again Granger. You’re out, I don’t care what happens to you, I don’t care if you live or die, and right now I am really hoping that you die. You’ve read the newspapers, apparently I’m the new Dark Lord so you better just _fuck off_ before I decide to make you my first victim.”

“Harry,” Hermione cried, hurt, humiliating tears pooling in her eyes, “Harry this isn’t you. You don’t act like this, I’m your friend—“

“You used to be my friend. If you were my friend you would be supported of me and Ron, but instead you’re acting like a superior, straight fuck. So just get out of our lives!” Harry yelled. He watched as Granger ran away in tears, but he couldn’t care less. Looking down he frowned as he saw that he only had the gown and his glasses. Not wanting to stay in the Hospital Wing any longer, Harry made sure that the gown was tightly tied in the back before walking out barefoot.

The stone was cold to his feet, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be back in his bed. The portraits he past were sleeping, the corridors filled with their snoring and grumbling as Harry stumbled his way through the darkness. He found his way to the entrance hall and looked around in the darkness. He had a choice, he realized. He could easily just run down to the dungeons and try to find Draco and spend the night in his arms, or he could continue his way to the Gryffindor Tower and reunite with his wand.

Harry stood there for two minutes debating on what to do before deciding that it would be better for him to have his wand, and be in his own bed. He began climbing the Grand Staircase, thankful that the stairs seemed to be sleeping as they all stayed still. Soon, however, each step seemed to be a force of labor as his anger left his body, leaving him weak. By the fifth floor, Harry needed to stop and lean against the banister for support. He was lucky though; there were no sign of Filch or his cat Mrs. Norris. Harry slid to the floor when he’d reach the landing of the sixth floor, completely exhausted. He couldn’t take another step.

He heard footsteps and for a split second thought it was Filch when he heard his best friend’s voice yell his name. He looked up and opened his mouth for help as he saw Ron running down the stairs, his prefect badge shining in the dim torch light. “Harry! What are you doing here?” Ron asked as he quickly helped Harry to his feet.

Taking deep breaths, Harry said in a hoarse, exhausted voice, “Hermione… Dumbledore… forced abortion… need bed.”

“What, I don’t understand,” Ron said. “Come on, let’s get you back in your bed okay?”

Harry nodded and leaned against the taller Gryffindor as they walked slowly up the stairs. Both boys kept quiet, the only sounds from the sleeping portraits and Harry’s occasional grunts as he continued to lean on Ron, his arm thrown around the redhead’s shoulder as Ron held him up. When they’ve reached the Fat Lady, both boys had a light layer of sweat on them. “Abstinence,” Ron barked, waking the Fat Lady up.

The portrait scolded them for being out so late, but they didn’t care, Ron barking the password again. With an annoyed huff, the portrait swung open, revealing the portrait hole. Harry was grateful that the common room was empty as he and Ron moved through it and up the stairs into the boys’ dormitory. The rest of the Sixth year boys were fast asleep as Ron helped Harry into his bed. Sitting on the edge of it, Ron said, “Are you feeling better now Harry? Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Hermione jinxed me,” Harry said. “She stunned me and somehow got me to the Hospital Wing where she and Dumbledore gave me an abortion.”

“What?” Ron said loudly. “She did what?”

“I told you, she stunned me—look Ron, I was pregnant. Draco and I both decided that right now, because of what’s happening and how old we are, is not the best time for a baby. We scheduled an abortion that was supposed to be at the end of the week. We’ve paid several hundred Galleons for it,” Harry said.

Ron just stared at Harry, shocked. “Harry…mate…” Then, for the first time Harry could remember, Ron hugged him. Harry gripped onto Ron’s body, using him as an anchor as he started to cry. “It was awful,” Harry said, “Just the thought—Dumbledore and Hermione and whoever else they’ve got to help do it—it’s just awful. Draco and I were supposed to do it, we had the appointment we’ve picked out wizard, he is the best Healer money can pay for. But Dumbledore and Granger just fucked it up!” Tears stained Ron’s robes but he didn’t care. The other boys started to wake up, looking around confused as Harry continued to cry.

“What happened?” Dean asked.

“Is Harry okay?” Neville asked.

“It’s okay,” Ron muttered, “Just go back to sleep.” The Gryffindors frowned, but nodded, closing their bed curtains. “Harry… calm down mate it’s okay. We’ll get back at them.”

“I know we will,” Harry said. “But just the thought makes me so… so angry, so frustrated I just—Agh!” Harry screamed in Ron’s chest, using Ron’s body to muffle the noise. Ron continued to hug his friend and smiled. “I think I get it now, why Draco and Blaise call us their Babies.”

“Why’s that?” Harry asked, wiping away his tears with his wrist.

“Easy, we need them to take care of us when we’re like this,” Ron smirked. “Why else do you think I call Blaise ‘Daddy’?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh and looked at Ron. “Really? You guys do that?”

“It’s hot… and I like it,” Ron blushed. Harry snorted and Ron grinned. “Feeling better?” he asked softly.

“Yeah… can you just do me a favor?” he asked.

“Sure, what do you need?” Ron asked.

“Just watch over me until I fall asleep, and when I am, don’t forget to lock the door, I don’t want any more intruders.” Harry said.

Ron snickered and said, “Yeah, of course Harry.” Harry whispered a thank you and took off his glasses, placing them on his nightstand. Ron continued to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed and waited quietly as Harry moved under the covers, taking off the hospital gown and throwing it out of the side of his bed. Harry moved so his back was to Ron and he closed his eyes to sleep.

Ron waited twenty minutes, not daring to move until he was sure his friend was asleep. When he heard Harry’s soft snores, Ron gently moved off of the bed and pointed his wand at the door. “ _Colloportus_ ,” he whispered, the door magically locking itself. Satisfied that his friend was safe, and the door was locked Ron slipped into his own bed, fall asleep before he had time to change.

The next day Harry went to search for Draco. He found his boyfriend in the Great Hall, eating breakfast with Blaise and Adrian. As soon as Draco saw his expression, he stood up and quickly made his way to Harry. Ignoring everyone around them, Draco asked, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s gone,” Harry said. “The baby’s gone. Come on,” Harry pulled Draco with him out of the Great Hall, leaving behind them whispers. Outside in the entrance hall, Harry said, “The abortion, I was forced to have it—Hermione stunned me in my bed and brought me to the Hospital Wing where her, Dumbledore, and some Healer performed the abortion.”

“That bitch!” Draco cursed. “How dare they! We have an appointment! What the hell were they thinking?”

“I know,” Harry grumbled. “It feels so awful… knowing they were inside me—physically inside me.”

“Baby,” Draco cooed, pulling his baby to him. “Don’t worry Harry love, everything’s going to be okay.”

Harry just nodded and frowned. “Don’t worry, I’ve already cried. I’m not going to again.” He looked up at Draco and said, “Let’s get Dumbledore’s ring… today.”

Draco smirked, “Whatever you say Baby. Go tell the others, alright?”

Harry nodded and they’ve returned to the Great Hall. Everyone continued to whispered as the two returned to their tables. Harry whispered to Cormac, Seamus, and Dean of their plan to do it today and sat down next to Ron. He told his best friend, who just nodded and they’ve ate breakfast in silence. When they were done, Harry and Ron left the Great Hall and loitered in the entrance hall. “You wait for the others and go to the Room,” Harry said. “Draco and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak near Dumbledore’s office. Cause as much mayhem as you guys can. And whatever you do, don’t you dare get caught. Or even let people think it’s from you guys, okay?”

“Got it Harry,” Ron said. “Don’t worry, everything’ll be fine.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry smiled. “And Ron… thank you… for last night.”

“Anytime mate,” Ron said, “We’re best friends right? Gotta take care of each other.”

“Yeah, we do,” Harry nodded. Draco joined them and he and Harry made their way to the Gryffindor Tower as Ron waited for the others. Draco waited outside the Fat Lady as Harry ran into the common room, up the stairs, and back into the dormitory. Taking out the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder’s Map  and stuffing them in his bag, Harry quickly made his way out of the Gryffindor common room and back with Draco. “Come on,” he said, taking out the Invisibility Cloak.

“So this is how you’ve gotten around the castle, my naughty boy,” Draco chuckled as Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak and taking out the map.

Harry just winked at him and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” The map came to life and Draco just stared in awe. “A map showing where everyone is,” Harry said. “My dad made it with his friends.”

“Amazing,” Draco breathed. “Look, there we are!” He pointed to two dots named “Draco Malfoy” and “Harry Potter.”

“Yeah, and look everyone’s on the way to the Room,” Harry said, pointing to the line of dots moving together.

Harry folded the map when they saw the line of dots disappeared and the two began their way to Dumbledore’s office. Stopping before the gargoyle, Harry pulled out the map again and studied it. Seamus and Dean were running around the fourth floor; Cormac and Terry Boot seemed to be taking on the second as Blaise and Ron were doing the dungeons. Adrian was in the Slytherin Common Room. “What is he doing in there?” Harry asked.

“Getting some well deserved revenge,” Draco smiled like a proud father. Harry just nodded and had to hold onto the cloak tightly as the castle shook. “Must have been them,” he said.

“Fireworks?”

“Yup.” The gargoyle sprung to life and Dumbledore ran out. Harry barely time to see that his hands were ringless. “The ring’s up in the office, let’s go!” he whispered.

The boys ran to the spiral staircase just as the gargoyle began to move back to place. The staircase began to rumble, and they’ve had to run extra quick as the staircase continued to rumble. At the top of the staircase, Draco had to jump to the door as Harry barely had time to open it. The Invisibility Cloak slipped off of them and onto the floor as they’ve walked deeper into Dumbledore’s office. Looking around, Harry was relieved that they were alone; not even Fawkes the Phoenix was in the office.

“Let’s get the ring, and get out of here,” he whispered to Draco who just nodded. The boys looked around the office for the ring, Draco by the desk as Harry checked the dresser and drawers. Getting an idea, Draco grabbed a quill and said, “Harry, how freaked would Dumbledore be if he saw the Dark Mark on his desk?”

“Very, but I don’t think we should try it, just look for the ring,” Harry said, looking at some contraption.

Draco sighed and pulled the bottom drawer of the desk, making a noise. Harry turned to see Draco picking up a ring. “I think we’ve found it,” Draco smirked. “There’s the strange mark and everything.”

Harry made his way to Draco and took the ring gingerly. Smiling at him, he nodded. “Yeah… this is Adrian’s ring. Come on, we better get out of here before he comes back.” Harry pocketed the ring as Draco quickly took a quill and piece of paper. “Draco, we don’t have time for this!” Harry said, “Dumbledore’s coming back! Hurry!” he said, checking the map.

“I’m almost done Baby,” Draco said. “Get the cloak!”

Harry nodded and ran for the Cloak as Draco finished his drawing. “Come on! Quick!” Harry hissed. Leaving just the piece of paper, and taking the quill, Draco ran towards Harry and slipped under the cloak just as the doors opened and Dumbledore walked in. Dumbledore was mumbling under his breath; the boys moved quickly and silently to get onto the staircase before the doors closed behind them.

Not daring to make a sound, they’ve rode the staircase down to the floor and squeezed past the stone gargoyle. Still under the Invisibility Cloak, they’ve made their way to the Room of Requirement. When they were outside, Harry tore the Cloak off of them and Draco pulled Harry to his chest, kissing him aggressively and passionately. “We did great Baby!” Draco said, his mouth on top of Harry’s.

“We did,” Harry breathed, kissing Draco again.

“Come on Baby, we need to go inside,” Draco said, showing restraint. “We need to show the guys in there the reward for their efforts.”

“Okay Draco,” Harry said. With a final kiss the two entered the Room of Requirement, rejoining with their friends.

 

Dumbledore was confused. Chaos in the castle all at once, Fireworks going off, swamps appearing out of nowhere, and stone walls exploding into song and no sign of whoever done it. He was still feeling exhausted from last night, and he just wanted to sit down. Dumbledore moved to his desk and sighed as he sat down. Looking down, his heart almost stopped as he gave a surprised scream. There, sitting right in front of him was a picture of the Dark Mark. The green skull and serpent seemingly mocking the old man as it moved on the paper, the serpent practically hissing at Dumbledore. And underneath that, in a glowing, elegant script read “We are Everywhere.”


	15. Growing Ranks

Chapter XV

Growing Ranks

It was midnight. Draco and Harry were nearly in front of a fireplace in the Room of Requirement. Their mission was a success. In Harry’s hand, he held a ring that belonged to Adrian Balk, a ring that his mentor gave his love years ago. Draco threw the green floo powder into the flame and it burst into a shining emerald. “Ready Harry?” Draco asked.

“Of course,” Harry nodded. They’ve stuck their heads through the fireplace and appeared in Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort was waiting for them. “Do you have it?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Draco said. Harry pushed his hand through the flame and held out the ring for Voldemort.

The Dark Lord took and examined the ring. “It is undamaged… that is good,” he muttered to himself. He returned to his chair and looked down at Draco and Harry. “You both have done something more important than you can ever realize.”

“What is our next task, my Lord?” Draco asked.

Voldemort stared down at them again and stayed quiet. “Before anything else, you both must first perform the abortion—“

“About that,” Harry interrupted, ignoring the sharp look Voldemort was giving him. “Dumbledore… he forced an abortion onto me. I was kidnapped from my bed and the next time I was awake, I was in the Hospital Wing, the abortion already done and Hermione Granger sitting next to me.”

Harry could see rage in Voldemort’s eyes but nowhere else. His mentor made sure his emotions did not disfigure his face as he said, “Step through the fire, so we can talk this out fully.”

Harry and Draco just nodded and pulled their heads out of the fire. Draco walked into the green fire first, disappearing in its flames before Harry joined him. Standing again in Malfoy Manor, Harry moved with Draco towards a small loveseat and sat down as Voldemort returned to his armchair. Harry heard a slithering noise and watched briefly as Nagini entered the room menacingly and situated herself around the loveseat, ready to strike at her master’s command. “Explain,” Voldemort said.

So Harry did. He told the story as best he could, filling in every detail that he remembered from shortly before the incident happened, to the events that happened as a cause of it, mainly the now official break up of his and Ron’s friendship with Hermione Granger, as well as Harry’s and Draco’s trip to Dumbledore’s office to steal the ring. When Harry was done, Draco couldn’t help but include the note that he left for Dumbledore.

“You idiot boy,” Voldemort sneered. “You and Harry are supposed to work without the old fool noticing your actions. By leaving a childish note like that you have officially warned Dumbledore to our presence!”

“My Lord, I’m—“

“No, don’t,” Voldemort said. “If you were anyone else Malfoy, you would be writhing on the floor in punishment. However, you need to learn from your disobedience. …Harry, stand.”

Harry glanced at Draco worried. He took a breath and stood, his body slightly shaking a bit. He coiled his body for a Crucio Curse but it never came. Instead Voldemort smirked at him and said, “Aim your wand at Draco, and do it.”

“What…”

“You will show your love what happens when he disobeys your mentor. I’ve taught you to torture, and now you will show me,” Voldemort commanded.

“But Voldemort… Draco just made a mistake!”

“Harry,” Voldemort warned.

“Do it Harry,” Draco said, their eyes meeting. “I can handle it. I promise.”

“…okay,” Harry said softly. He pointed his wand at Draco and said, “ _Crucio!_ ” Draco barely screamed as the Curse hit him. Harry held the spell for only ten seconds before Voldemort said, “Stop.” Harry did and immediately dropped to Draco’s lap.

“Good, now that that business is out of the way,” Voldemort said, “We can conclude out meeting. I want you both to keep a low profile for now. We need to see how Dumbledore will respond to your idiotic gesture.”

Draco looked down, in submissive shame, a look that Harry didn’t like on Draco’s face. He looked at his mentor, still angry that he had him even point his wand against Draco and said, “We’ll keep a low profile.”

“Good. You’re dismissed,” Voldemort said, waving his hand. He turned his attention fully onto the ring and seemed to lose himself to the world. Harry and Draco took this time to retreat back to the fireplace, and as quietly as they could slip the floo powder back into the fireplace and went back to the Room of Requirement.

As soon as they landed, Harry rushed to hug Draco’s body and said, “I’m sorry I had to do that! I really hope I didn’t hurt you too much, I’m an awful Baby—“

“Harry, Harry Baby look at me… it’s okay you did nothing wrong,” Draco shushed. “And don’t say that, you’re not an awful Baby Harry, you’re my Baby, and you’re as perfect as you are. You’re strong, you know that right? You do all these wonderful things—don’t dwell on what our Lord made you do. He was right, I should never have left that message, you told me not to.”

“Then what did you?” Harry sniffed, wiping away tears he never knew he had.

“I wasn’t thinking, I thought I was being clever,” Draco said. “Instead I’ve made you worry. I’m sorry Harry.”

Harry sighed and pulled Draco down, both of them lying on the floor. “It’s fine… let’s just return to our common rooms, alright? I’m tired.”

“Alright, yeah good idea… I’ll walk you,” Draco nodded.

“I need that, thanks,” Harry smiled. They’ve gotten off the floor and stretched briefly before walking out of the Room of Requirement. It was a short walk from the Room to Gryffindor Tower, but they’ve didn’t care. They just wanted to enjoy each other’s company. When they’ve reached the portrait of the fat lady, Harry pulled Draco down and kissed him deeply. “Goodnight Draco,” he whispered.

“Night Baby,” Draco smiled softly. He waited until the portrait closed behind Harry and the Fat Lady was glaring at him before he turned to leave.

Draco was lucky enough to run into nobody as he returned to the dungeons. When he entered the Slytherin common room, he was surprised, however, to find Nott sitting down by the fireplace, looking as if he was lost in thought. “What are you doing still up, Nott?” Draco asked.

Nott jumped and turned towards Draco. “Oh Draco… just you. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Adrian… and Pansy,” Nott said.

“What happened?” Draco demanded.

“Well, Adrian walked into the common room and sat in his chair to read,” Nott said, pointing to the smaller throne in front of him. “Pansy saw him from over there,” he pointed to a now destroyed chair that rested in the corner, “and stood immediately. Blaise and you weren’t here (what were you doing by the way?) so she felt like she had control of everyone here. She tried to physically pull Adrian from the chair, calling him a mudblood and other awful words. He panicked and, well actually punched Parkinson.”

Draco chuckled at this.

“Yeah, it was a bit funny seeing her getting punched by that small boy. But well, she got angry.”

“Did she hit him?” Draco asked, his amusement turning to quick anger.

“No no, well almost…” Nott said. “Before anyone could react, Pansy pulled her wand out and started screaming a Curse. The others didn’t move, in fact I don’t think they would move; they would all allow Parkinson harm Ashford! I don’t know what I was doing, but I tackled Pansy, her wand went flying and…well that was the results of it.” Nott pointed to the destroyed chair in the corner. “Ashford when running to the dorms and I haven’t seen him since.”

“And Parkinson?” Draco asked.

“Sleeping in her bed right now. She had a few choice words with me,” Nott said, sounding sad to have Parkinson scream at him like that.

Draco nodded and said, “Thanks Theo, for doing that.”

“No problem,” Nott said. He stretched in his chair, but stayed in it.

“Well… I’m going to bed now,” Draco said.

“Wait, what did you do? For the Dark Lord?”

“How—“

“It’s obvious Draco,” Nott said with a small smirk. “You really should be careful when you whisper to Blaise. Don’t worry, only I heard and well, I just want to know.”

Draco gave Nott a sharp look. Nott stood his ground, looking at Draco only curiously as the Ice King made his way to his chair. When he was situated, Draco relaxed into his throne and just stared at Nott, still considering if he should tell the Slytherin or not. Theo did not flinch. Instead he met Draco’s look.

“The Dark Lord,” Draco said slowly, emphasizing every word, “wanted Harry and I to sneak into Dumbledore’s office and steal a ring. Harry and I do not know the reasoning, nor do we need to, we just needed to follow our Lord’s orders.”

“And is it true that our Lord is teaching Harry?” Nott asked.

“Yes. My Harry is our Lord’s apprentice. How that happened is a story too long to tell,” Draco said.

Nott just nodded, “Had a feeling he would come around honestly,” he said.

“Indeed,” Draco smirked. “You cannot imagine how happy I am to know that my Baby is on the correct side.”

Nott just nodded again.

“I am tired, so I am going to bed. Thank you again, for looking out for Adrian,” Draco said standing from the throne.

“Anytime,” Nott said, returning to his book.

The next morning Draco and Harry awoke to articles, many articles, about Harry.

**HARRY POTTER HAD ABORTION!!**

_Harry Potter, whom only a few days ago have confirmed his homosexuality refuses to get out of the spotlight he himself have made. Not only was Harry Potter pregnant with a child, but we have just very recently been told that Harry Potter have received an abortion only days after our article! Why would he do that? Could it be from guilt from his coming out? Does he regret his unfortunately stupid decision to become a homosexual? To commit illicit acts with another man? We have asked the Healer who have performed the operation herself for some answers._

_To honor her request, we will leave her anonymous._

_The Healer have agreed to tell us exactly how the operation went. To my readers with weak hearts, I must warn you to skim past._

_Harry was unconscious during most of it, unable to face the consequence or actions of his horrible, horrible acts. She was forced to perform the abortion by Potter himself, however Dumbledore soothed the Healer, telling her that he will help her in any way he could. The abortion itself was quite nasty, she had to do some quick thinking and fancy spellwork to compensate for the male body, a body that is never or should never adjust for pregnancy, including cutting Potter’s body opened, pulling out the poor, unwanted baby (which she declares was a boy), as well as everything that a normal pregnancy needs. It was a bloody affair, the Healer exclaimed that blood was everywhere and Potter looked like a monster being dissected with his unnatural uterus. When it was all done, Potter looked unrecognizable, covered in blood and other bodily fluids as the Healer done her best to patch him up. It was a long, and terribly difficult surgery that only the best of Healers could perform, but somehow our Healer did. She made Potter look remotely human again, and as a favor to him did a bit of fancy potion work and made him a concoction that would make sure this would never happen again._

_The Healer was paid quite a bit by Professor Dumbledore as thanks, and offered a very large gift basket as well. As for Potter, he barely uttered a thank you for the Healer, or even went to seek her out to pay his bill (Which Dumbledore had to settle). Being very ungrateful, it is reported that Potter had a fit in the Hospital Wing, ruining the space before storming out. We can only guess what Harry Potter have done after that, but whatever it is, this reporter can only tell that it is bad._

**HARRY POTTER NEW DARK WIZARD?**

_With the new and shocking revelations about Harry Potter, it needs to be asked whether or not Potter has truly fallen to the Dark Arts. There are many reports to back up or suspicion and fear including Harry’s new friendships with multiple Slytherins who all have connections to the Dark Arts, particularly Draco Malfoy of the Malfoy Family, as well as the complete flip of his personality that seemed to have happened. There have been multiple reports of Harry Potter in the company of several Slytherins, all given by anonymous sources who wishes to hide from Potter’s new and dangerous wrath. As well as his new company, it seems that there are times when Potter disappears for hours on time. People can only guess what he is doing. Could Harry Potter be training to defeat the Dark Lord, only to take his place? Could he be building an army? Are we looking at the uprising of a new and more dangerous (and perverted) Dark Lord? And can we nip it in the bud before hand?_

_Only time can tell._

**CALLS FOR HARRY POTTER’S ARREST DENIED!**

_Even though it had only been a few days, Harry Potter’s decision to come out as a homosexual has caused a dangerous stir. There have been multiple demands from sensible and scared parents to arrest Harry and send the boy to Azkaban. These worries, all from parents who worry that Potter will corrupt them to the Dark Arts, and worst to homosexuality, fell on deaf ears on both Dumbledore’s and the Minister’s part. Fudge declared that it is “unreasonable and highly illogical to arrest a student of Hogwarts no matter the crime.” Dumbledore agreed to this saying that “Hogwarts is a time for learning, a time for mistakes, and a time for phases. In time the mistakes and phases pass, only for knowledge to take their places. We will see here the same course of action will happen.”_

_But still their words cannot quell our worries and anger for the young boys Harry constantly surrounds himself with. We can only hope that the experimentations Harry performs are purely magical and in theory only, and that this phase will soon pass._

“They think this is a phase!?” Harry yelled out when he read this. Anger filled his body as he stared at the paper, his body vibrating slightly. “Those stupid gits! And I was not ungrateful—that woman violated me! I can’t believe this! Look at what they are doing to me Ron!” he cried out, handing the paper to him.

Ever since the abortion, Harry and Ron ostracized Hermione. Instead they’ve sat down with Neville, Seamus, and Dean at the Great Hall as Hermione, and everyone else, avoided Harry like a plague. Not that Harry cared, to him Hermione was now officially one of those stupid gits, except only worse.

Ron took the paper and read the article. “Bloody hell, this is getting scary Harry. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “A lot of people want me to be sent to Azkaban simply for loving Draco, yet I haven’t received one simply angry letter or howler. And that abortion… Dumbledore forced me to have that, you all know that, I still need to ruin him somehow.” Harry became silent as the gears in his head started to grind. He looked up at the staff table where Dumbledore was eating breakfast merrily, as if he was humming a jolly tune in his head as he ate. _He needs to go away,_ Harry thought. _If Dumbledore goes away, if he dies, than everyone else will fall into place._

Looking at his friends, Harry frowned and closed his eyes. There, in the dark solitude of his mind, he begun to think and plan. _There’s no way I can tell them the truth. If any of them have even an idea that I’m practicing the Dark Arts and working with Voldemort, they’ll betray me in an instant, gay or not. No, I need them on my side and for that I need to keep them in the dark, at least for my apparent allegiance. What I need are numbers, more than we have. I need a force that will keep everyone distracted as Draco and I do our missions._ Opening his eyes, Harry looked down at the paper on the table and skimmed it again. _They’re saying I’m building an army, so maybe I should. Right now there are only less than a dozen of us: Me, Draco, Ron, Blaise, Adrian, Seamus, Dean, Cormac, Terry, Neville, and Luna. That is not enough, we need more. Many more. If only there was a way to find others like me, or sympathizers like Neville and Luna. More friends, more people, more distractions for Dumbledore. With an army we can control the castle easily and they would be none the wiser. That way while everyone is busy trying to figure out where exactly we’re coming from, Draco and I can eliminate Dumbledore._

Harry looked at Dumbledore and for the first time studied him. Not look at him as if he was another person, or revere him like a great wizard, but actually study him as a specimen. The man laughed at something Professor McGonagall said and lifted his goblet, bringing it to his lips to drink. His eyes shifting the staff table quickly, Harry looked for any markings or differences that singled Dumbledore out. The first thing he noticed was that Dumbledore’s goblet was different from the rest of the staff’s, having an insignia Harry guessed was for the Headmaster of Hogwarts. It was old looking, a pale gold cup that has been shined daily with Hogwart’s symbol on the face of it.

 _It would be simple to poison the goblet easily,_ Harry thought. _I would simply have to convince the House-Elves to let me, but they work for Dumbledore and any one of them might taste it first, or worse, go directly to Dumbledore. No, if I am going to poison him, it will need to either be in his office or in the Great Hall._

Harry continued to watch Dumbledore. The old man continued to eat and chat with his fellow staff and as best as he could, harry could find no other remarkable differences. Dumbledore cut his food into small bites with his knife and fork, fill his fork with a bite and took it. Chewing once, twice, three times before swallowing and taking a tip from his goblet before talking with Professor McGonagall to his left, or Professor Snape on his right. Harry continued to watch, and it was then that he noticed something odd. Dumbledore never refilled his goblet. He had certainly drank enough to empty it, he even accidently spilled a remarkable amount of Pumpkin juice on his beard by accident, yet still he never reached for the pitcher to refill it.

_Where are you getting your drink? The Goblet cannot be enchanted to be never ending? Can it? No, a spell like that does not exist. I have to stop thinking about the goblet now. I need to look for more people…_

With reluctance, Harry moved from Dumbledore and chose to look around the Great Hall. _Terry’s talking a lot with Michael Corner. And why is he pointing to Cormac?_ Harry looked at Cormac, who was with his own friends, and watched as he sent the Ravenclaw a quick, lewd smirk and wink. _Interesting…_ Harry thought. He looked at the guys around him and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He stood up and made his way to Cormac, ignoring the glares and looks from his fellow Gryffindors. Cormac was surrounded by five other seventh year boys who were laughing with him.

“Hey Harry! Great news! I’ve told my friends here about Terry. They’re the ones who dared me to eat the doxy egg, and they’ve cool with it, right guys?”

“Yeah,” someone said.

“Knew McLaggen wasn’t going to celibate, right boys? The kinky sod!” another smirked.

“That’s great,” Harry smiled. He leaned down and whispered, “Why not asking them to come to the Room of Requirement with us? We need all the help we can. And tell Terry to bring Michael Corner with him, any anyone else he wants to.”

“Oh, alright,” Cormac nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great. Usual time,” Harry said. He looked at the others and said, “Nice meeting you,” before returning to his seat. _That makes seventeen now. Not a bad start. We’ll just need to keep growing._

And growing they did. It seemed as if every time Harry held a meeting (which was daily), the Room of Requirement slowly became more and more packed. From First Years to Seventh Years, kissing boys and snogging girls, Harry’s group of individuals grew until nearly fifty Hogwarts Students filled the room by the end of the month. Day by day word of mouth spread about the meetings, everyone agreeing to keep Harry and Draco a secret—the members only telling those they know who won’t be disgusted or revolted by them. Harry smiled whenever he sees the blushing, confused eleven year olds talking with the older students who comforted and supported them. Adrian Ashford hung out with students his age and told them tales of his dads.

At the end of the month, both Harry and Draco was shocked to see Theodore Nott standing in the seventh floor hall looking rather sheepish. “Pansy and I broke up,” he said. “She was badmouthing you and Adrian, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I burst and just yelled at her. Draco… I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting towards you, can you forgive me?”

“Of course Nott,” Draco nodded after a moment’s consideration. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome. You are our Ice King aren’t you? You’ve earned our respect,” Nott chuckled.

“Yeah, something that the others need reminding of,” Draco said.

“Then I’ll help you remind them,” Nott said. Draco smiled and placed his hand on Nott’s shoulder. “Theo, follow me, I think we’re going to get along nicely from now on.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Nott said as the three entered the Room of Requirements. While their group didn’t have an official name or leader, all the members seemed to gravitate towards Harry and Draco as their commanders. Harry was thankful of this as it makes it easier to gather them together and have them take over the castle.

“Harry! Harry!” Colin Creevey ran up to him, followed by his little brother Dennis. “What are we going to do today?”

“I don’t know yet,” Harry said as he tried to push through, Draco and Nott following them. Only the first members know that Harry and Draco were planning to dethrone both Dumbledore and the Minister; the others just thought that the club was a place to unwind, to be themselves and plan to show the others that they existed.

“Fred and George came here earlier Harry,” Ron said when he saw his friend. “They’ve brought in more stuff to prank the castle with! You should have seen their faces, they love it.”

“Good,” Harry smiled.

“Yeah… how they coming here anyway? And can they really give us all this stuff for free?” Ron asked.

“Don’t worry, Draco and I have an arrangement with them,” Harry said.

“Alright, I guess,” Ron shrugged. Harry nodded and moved forward, pushing past the small groups of people, saying hello to everyone he past until he and Draco reached a small raised platform.

“Should we start?” Harry asked Draco.

“It’s all yours, Baby,” Draco said, taking his baby’s hand in his. Harry smiled and looked out at the room.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” he said loudly. The talking ceased at once and everyone turned to Harry. “I cannot begin to even describe my happiness to see everyone here. We have started with only Draco and me, but in a month we have grown over fifty strong! With more people coming in daily. I want to take the time to thank each and every one of you for coming here, to the guys who like guys, girls who like girls, and people who like both, and our friends I want to say thank you! Now, we are all here looking for a voice. A voice that they out there refuse to hear, and I am here to tell you that Draco and I… will not be your voice! Why should we? You have your own! We all need to fight for who we are, we need to be loud. Loud! And the way Draco and I figured out to do that is to take up Fred and George’s mantel! Fred Weasley and George Weasley… twins who are just like us—two gay twins who never was allowed to be who they truly are, a truly frustrating experience as we all know.

“We all know how frustrating that must be, but lucky for the twins they’ve found an out source, a small way to make their mark and give their voices: pranks. It’s childish, yes, but we are dealing with childish adults. I am not saying that I want each and every one of you here to break the rules, no not at all. If you don’t want to prank the castle, that is fine, there are many ways for our voices to be heard—much more than I can think of right now anyway. The point is that we need our voices to be heard, we need to let Hogwarts, let the Ministry, know that we exist and that we are not silent!

“The road ahead will be twisted with straying paths and multiple obstacles, but if we stick together on that straight and narrow road, we can have those homophobic laws banned! We can have a Minister who will listen to our cause; a Headmaster who will look out for our young gay kids; and everyone will finally see that we are all humans! It doesn’t matter what our sexuality is, or who are parents are!”

Cheers erupted in the room and Harry smiled as he felt Draco’s arm wrap around his waist. “Since when were you good at speeches, Baby?” he whispered.

“I have a good mentor,” Harry whispered back, smiling in their kiss.

 

“I thank you all for coming here in short notice,” Dumbledore said. He was sitting in his office. His desk has been transfigured into a long table, with the Order of the Phoenix sitting on the sides of the table, and the Minister of Magic himself sitting on the other side.

“What is the meaning of this Dumbledore? And who are all of these people?” Fudge demanded.

“I am sorry for the short notice, and need of secrecy Minister,” Dumbledore said. “These are a few friends of mine. Together we form a society I have created during Voldemort’s first uprising. Our purpose is to protect both the wizarding world and the muggle world from Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”

“Why am I just learning about this now Dumbledore? After all that happened last year in the Ministry itself!” Fudge exclaimed.

“Because Fudge, there was no need for me to share all of my resources at the time, however, now it is different,” Dumbledore said. “A greater threat is rising, one more powerful and more awful than Lord Voldemort himself. Though it pains me to even think of it, I am sorry to say that we have failed Harry Potter.”

“What do you mean Headmaster?” Tonks asked.

“I know that you have all read some rather disturbing articles in the Daily Prophet,” Dumbledore said. “Articles with information that they should not have known, Minister, about Harry. It is all true. Harry Potter has fallen to the Dark Arts, he has been seduced by the Dark Arts and is in position of becoming the next Dark Lord.”

“Great Scott!” the Minister yelled.

“Then just get rid of the kid,” Moody growled. “One teenager against ten fully experienced wizards: we’ll have Potter in Azkaban before morning.”

“This is most outrageous! You cannot possibly think to throw a child like that into Azkaban!” The Minister yelled out. “The public won’t allow it.”

“I will have to agree with the Minister on this one Alastor, it would only cause more problems if we send Harry to Azkaban. However, that does not cover the fact that Harry is becoming more powerful with each passing day. It seems that he is following Voldemort’s steps and collected a small group of friends with a history of the Dark Arts. Most noticeably, he has a very close friendship with a Draco Malfoy, not to mention his sustain friendship with Ronald Weasley and new friendship with Blaise Zabini.”

“Are you suggesting that the Slytherins brought Ron and Harry to the Dark Arts?” Tonks asked.

“No! Not my Ronnie, my boy’s too smart for that,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m sure Harry must have had a hand in this! Oh and after all the things I have done for the boy!”

Dumbledore raised a hand for silence and attention. “It is unfortunate, but do not blame yourself Molly. Harry brought his friend along with him towards the dark path he walks. But, not to worry, there are ways to reverse the damage Harry has done.”

“There is?” Molly gasped. “Do you think it’s possible… to do it to my son Charlie as well?”

Dumbledore shook his head, “I am sorry but Charlie is too old for these methods. It works more effectively the younger the boy is. But for now, we need to focus on our problem with Harry.”

“What are you suggesting, Headmaster?” Kingsley asked, crossing his arms.

Dumbledore sighed and said, “We have to consider Harry is a Dark Wizard, and treat him as such. We need to figure out what exactly he is planning, but make sure that he does not catch wind of this. The sooner we can get rid of Harry, the sooner we can get control of the situation. Until then, I suggest we go about our lives as normal until I call for you all. Minister, I suggest the public should be warned about Harry. Do what you feel is right.”


	16. Twisted

Chapter XVI

Twisted

**HARRY POTTER: PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER ONE!?!**

_In a shocking move that confused all of the Wizarding World, the Minister of Magic Cornilius Fudge have announced last night that Hogwarts Student Harry Potter a dangerous enemy to the Wizarding Community. “After hard consideration of his actions in Hogwarts including disturbing relationships, corrupting his fellow youths and dangerous actions that knowingly leads to the dangers of others, we have no choice but to label Harry Potter as a Dark Wizard,” the Minister told the_ Daily Prophet _in his office. While Harry Potter have become a regular in the Daily Prophet due to his unusual and irregular actions in Hogwarts, this news still comes to a shock to many. No one at the Daily Prophet could believe that the Ministry have actually declared Potter to be a Dark Wizard, but now that he has the only question is: what now? Should Harry be dragged from Hogwarts and sent to Azkaban? Or will he be allowed to finish his education if he goes through an intense correctional program? There is only one person who can answer these burning questions, and unfortunately Albus Dumbledore has refused to comment on this development._

**STUDENTS REACT TO POTTER’S ACCUSATIONS**

_It seems that Harry Potter has continued to go to classes despite his new label. Despite this, however, his fellow students seem to all have mixed reactions about Harry. One of Potter’s most vocal opposition is a lovely girl named Pansy Parkinson. Parkinson, who has an angelic heart-shaped face and flowing black hair, has talked with this reporter on her opinion on Potter. “It is all his fault,” Parkinson lamented. “Draco loved me before Potter turned him into a poof!” (Parkinson has used a worse word which we will not print) “He was my boyfriend before Potter sunk his poisonous claws and did something to poor Draco. That is probably how he had gotten all those other guys, you know, sleeping around with them. I’ve saw Blaise give Potter weird looks at the beginning of the year. Him being a poof does nothing to me really, hated the git then and I hate him now. Now only more so.”_

_While many are angry at Potter for his choices, there are some who feel betrayed or broken-hearted such as Miss Hermione Granger, who was coaxed to give all that she knew about Harry. “He was my best friend. Him and Ron. I only wanted to do what was best for him. I thought I was doing a good thing helping Harry with this… surgery. Him flipping out and ending our six year friendship was the last thing I expected or wanted.” Hermione was of course referencing Harry Potter abortion: An act that he had received harsh criticism already. Miss Granger has revealed that she was there with her friend during the abortion, and tried to take care of him after the horrible surgery. Potter reportedly panicked and reacted violently towards Granger, yelling at her and threatening to use violence._

_Even though many of the castle are now against Potter, there is still a small minority who, for whatever reasons, believe in him. Cormac McLaggen, a Gryffindor who is described as being loud, obnoxious, and foolhardy, was reported on saying that Potter “Changed his life,” and that he is a “Good guy who is getting bad press.” It is unknown, however, if this is McLaggen speaking or him just trying something new. There is also a first year Slytherin named Adrian Ashford, Muggleborn, who was overheard on saying that “Harry and Draco are my best friends. They’ve both helped me when no one else would.”_

_While young Ashford does seem innocent in his comment, it is still unknown how close or physical his relationship with Harry Potter is._

Dark heavy bags now hung beneath Harry’s eyes. His emerald eyes seemed to become dull, like a light was snatched away from them throughout the months. It was the end of May now, and Harry does not know how he had survived. His hair was ragged-looking, skin turning a pale-color from lack of sunlight. His bones and body sagged as he looked out at the crowd in front of him. His friends, his allies. They were all in the Room of Requirement which for the last five months became Harry’s bedroom as he was kicked out of Gryffindor Tower. Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes as he remembered that day.

Ron wasn’t with him, nor any of his friends from his rebellion. The first of many articles denouncing Harry just printed, and everyone in Gryffindor Tower wanted him gone. It was Katie first. She cast a Stinging Hex as soon as Harry stepped into the common room. Followed by Parvati Patil, who burned Harry’s hands with a Singeing Spell. Harry screamed in pain as he fell to his knees, looking up at the crowd of faceless Gryffindors in confusion. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

“Shut up, Dark Wizard,” Katie Bell spat. “It’s bad enough you’re a poof!”

“Yeah,” Ginny’s voice called out from the crowd. “There’s no way we’ll have a Dark Wizard in Gryffindor!” She aimed her wand at Harry and casted another Stinging Hex. Harry grunted in pain and reached for his wand.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Ginny snarled. Harry’s wand went flying out of the portrait hole. “Leave,” she demanded.

“You’re all mental if you believe that sod,” Harry said as he tried to stand. He couldn’t believe these people. All of them he’d known for six years and now they’re betraying him?

“Get out!” Ginny yelled. “Everybody wants you gone.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked, he looked around. “Where’s Neville then? Let me hear what Neville has to say. Or how about Ron? And Seamus and Dean? How about Cormac?”

“Those are all guys you’ve corrupted Harry,” Katie said. “They’ll just stick up for you, we don’t want that.”

“Yeah,” Lavender Brown said. “They’ll all be better off without you around!”

Harry just stared at them dumbfounded. Was he just surrounded by hateful stupidity that he never noticed before? A barrage of spells began. Harry barely heard all of the incantations as he felt pain everywhere. Tiny cuts appeared on his cheeks, arms, hands, and legs. Patches of his skin burned like a hot plate was pressed onto it for only a second, and his legs felt a giant pressure on them that brought him to his knees. The mob continued their assault on Harry for some time, hitting him with jinxes and hexes. They only stopped when they and Harry heard steps and looked towards the stairs to the dormitories to see Hermione walking down the stairs. Though he hated the girl after what she had done, Hermione was the only saving grace he had to make the mob see sense. “Hermione!” he called out. “Hermione!”

“Harry? What’s going on?” she asked, approaching the mob. “Hang on, what are you all doing with Harry’s trunk?”

Harry looked at the floor and just noticed that his trunk, which somehow became badly beaten, was sitting in front of him. “We’re kicking him out,” Lavender Brown said.

“He’s a Dark Wizard Hermione, we can’t have him in our Tower! Who’ll know what he’ll do?”

“He already corrupted the entire sixth year boys! And Cormac!” someone yelled out.

“As well as the Creevey brothers,” someone else said.

“He’s dangerous Hermione, we have to do this,” Ginny said.

Hermione looked between Ginny and Harry. Harry just glared at Ron’s sister before looking at Hermione. “Granger look, they’re all mental. Just help me get my stuff back in the dorm. Please?”

“Hermione,” Ginny warned. “He’s a Dark Wizard!”

Hermione looked lost, as if she was at the cross roads of two choices. She bit her lip, stared at Harry, then looked at the mob behind her. Harry crossed his arms as he waited for Hermione to respond. His former friend just stared at her feel, battling her inner turmoil’s. Then, slowly, she lifted her head up. A heartbreaking expression was on her face as she took a step back. “I’m sorry Harry… I can’t,” she said.

Anger rose in Harry. “Fine,” he spat. Picking up his trunk he gave his ex-Housemates one final look. “I cannot believe what you have done,” he said. “You’ve all made a stupid, horrible decision. I hope you all fail in life.”

The others just jeered him as he turned around and walked out of the portrait hole. Bruised and slightly bloodied, Harry bent to pick up his wand and then limped his way towards away from Gryffindor Tower, away from his home for the past six years, and away from the people he once called friends. That was the first night that Harry spent in the Room of Requirement alone. It was also the first time that things in Hogwarts turned for the worse.

He still attended classes, he wouldn’t let them bully him out of those, but even under the gaze of professors, Harry suffered. Notes were constantly past to him containing slurs and threats; small pranks were played on him when the professors weren’t looking, he had his bag ripped open more times than he can count. Harry was the school’s target, and Draco had enough of it. Not telling Harry, Draco took matters into his own hands as their offence of pranks turned to meaner things.

While Harry was sleeping in the Room of Requirement one time, Draco and Blaise worked together to get back on the people who dared to hurt their Baby. Their first target was Ginny Weasley. To Ginny, they’ve snuck into Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the day whenever everyone was in class and destroyed her bed, trunk, and nightstand. Not a single thing was left untouched. Later that day Ginny found her bed ripped and collapsed on the floor, her trunk burnt badly with all of her stuff ruined inside, and her nightstand completely hacked to bits. The worst part, however, came when she tried to touch one of them. Incredible pain rushed through her body as her hair was plucked from her skull thread by thread. She had to be rushed to the Hospital Wing before she was completely bald. Draco and Blaise watched it all, and reported to Harry with glee of the sight of Ginny running out of the Gryffindor Tower, long threads of red hair falling to the ground behind her.

A small smile came to Harry’s face as he remembered those memories. Draco and Blaise always looked after him. That is something he is always thankful for, those two boys loved their Baby. … Babies now, Harry thought as he looked at Ron. Harry was thankful that the entire school was only coming after him. He wouldn’t dare to think what would happen if they turn their anger onto Ron, or Draco. …

With a groan Harry shook his head and tried to get rid of those thoughts. He stretched in the throne-like chair that now stood on the raised podium and looked down at the teenagers and kids using the room as a hiding place. He needed to end this, if not for him for them. He didn’t know how long it will be until the school start targeting someone else. It could be the Creevey brothers, or Ron… or even Adrian.

“Are you okay?” Adrian Ashford asked. Harry straightened in his chair and looked at Adrian. “What?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked again. “Draco’s been worrying about you. How long has it been? Since December you’ve been sleeping here?”

“January,” Harry said. “And I’m fine. I told Draco he doesn’t need to worry about me.”

“I know but… I’m worrying about you,” Adrian said, he frowned and looked at the door. “Everyone out there hates you. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, it doesn’t matter. They all hate you and… and they’re hating anyone associated with you.”

“I know, it’s shit but I’m trying to think of something to do about that,” Harry argued.

“I know you are, believe me,” Adrian said. “Draco stays with you until late at night, and then comes back around one, two in the morning… Do you go to bed when he leaves?”

“I can’t, I need to keep on top of my school work,” Harry said. He groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. He honestly did not know what to do. Voldemort was helping him slightly with his raids, keeping the Ministry’s attention off of him for a time. But somehow it always goes back to Harry with another piece of slander:

**HARRY POTTER GUILTY OF BRINGING DANGERS TO HOGWARTS!**

**DARK WIZARD POTTER PLOTS COUP IN HOGWARTS**

**NEW DARK LORD: HOW HARRY POTTER SLIPPED THROUGH DUMBLEDORE’S FINGERS**

**NEW CONNECTION BETWEEN HOMOSEXUALITY AND DARK ARTS CONFIRMED, MINISTRY SAYS**

Day after day it was nothing but articles, letters and threats. In the beginning it started small, and Dumbledore blocked the more threatening ones (Howlers, exploding letters) but still the ones he did get hurt Harry deeply. He still had the letter Mrs. Weasley sent him letting him know that he is not welcome in her house.

_Harry,_

_I am sorry to say but because of your behaviors at Hogwarts and recent… news I can’t let you come home to the Burrow for the holidays. I am sorry but it is so hard for me to believe that the little eleven year old boy who asked me how to get to platform nine and three quarters all those years ago would turn into a fairy… and that the fairy would fall to the Dark Arts. You are Ron’s best friend, and while I know that this will be hard for all of us, I want you to stay away from him. Ron is a good boy, a smart boy, and I do not want your fairyness to disturb Ron and turn him away from his own parents like Charlie has. I refuse to lose another son to fairies and if I have to cut all family ties with you, then I will._

_I am sorry Harry, but this is the only way. Please don’t hate me. This is as hard for me as it is you, but you have made your choice. You’ve chose your side and it is not with Ron or any of the Weasleys._

_I hope your life treats you fairly and that you get everything you deserve._

_Molly Weasley_

Harry’s heart broke when he received the letter. He refused to cry in the Great Hall, refused to show any weakness in front of them, but once he was alone in the Room he’d let his tears fall. Ron found him an hour later, and the two spent the entire day in the Room holding each other as they’ve comforted and cried with their brother.

“Harry, you’re doing it again,” Adrian’s voice snapped him out of the memory. Harry’s head jerked and he yawned. “I’m sorry Adrian, I just haven’t been sleeping much.”

“I know,” Adrian frowned. “Harry, you need to sleep more, honestly. It’s not healthy for you.”

“I just don’t have the time,” Harry sighed. “June’s coming and I can just feel that Dumbledore is going to do something drastic like having me arrested as soon as I step out of Hogwarts or something.”

Adrian shook his head. “I don’t care about that now. I only want you to sleep.”

“I can’t! I need to plan!” Harry yelled.

“No! You need to sleep!” Adrian yelled back stubbornly.

“You don’t understand, you’re just a little kid!” Harry ranted. “My life is destroyed! I can’t even step outside of this goddamn room without my Invisibility Cloak in fear of getting hit, or cut, or punched, or worse. Those monsters are killing me slowly. They are discrediting my name, flaunting me as someone worst than Voldemort, and I need to find a way to beat them, kill Dumbledore, kill our stupid Minister and put Draco in charge! So excuse me if I don’t care about my GODDAMN SLEEP!” Harry roared at the end.

The entire hall became dead quiet as they’ve turned to look at Harry. His chest panting, face pale and in a cold sweat Harry just stared out at the crowd. His dull eyes moving from face to face as each one showed worry, concern, and fear. He was losing it. Harry turned back to Adrian who was still standing in his spot. Though he had a stubborn look, tears welled in Adrian’s eyes as he just stared at Harry, his dull blue eyes looking like a sad pond on a rainy day. “I can’t,” Harry said in a softer tone. “I’m too busy.”

“No you’re not,” Blaise’s voice called out. He stood up, Ron following him, and they’ve quickly made their way to Harry. “Harry, Baby, why are you yelling?” Blaise whispered. “Draco told me to look after you while he’s in class—“

“I can take care of myself,” Harry argued. Blaise just gave him a sharp look, which Harry returned.

“You clearly can’t if you’re barely sleeping,” Blaise argued. He looked around the room and asked, “Where is your bed?”

“In the corner,” Harry pointed to the back corner of the room. There stood a single bed with a metal frame, one pillow, and two blankets tossed wrinkled on the firm, small mattress. “It’s fine,” he insisted when he saw the look Blaise gave him.

Blaise just took Harry’s arm in his hand and dragged the boy towards the bed, Ron following them. “Ron, baby, can you hold Harry while I fix this thing Harry calls a bed?”

“Yeah D—Blaise,” Ron nodded. Blaise smiled and handed Harry to Ron like a small child. “I don’t need this,” Harry insisted. “Blaise, what are you doing? Stop it! Ron let go, I need to plan. I almost got it done…”

“No,” Blaise said. “Draco and I did not save you, and took care of you over the summer just to let yourself kill yourself from exhaustion.” He pointed his wand at the small bed and did a series of movements, muttering under his breath. The bed shook before it stretched itself out, expanding until it could comfortably fit at least four people. The metal frame disappeared, replaced by strong and solid wood as bed posts sprung from the corners, dark green curtains appearing between them. The firm mattress doubled in size and looked inviting as pillows of all shapes and sizes replaced the single sad looking pillow. “Now,” Blaise said as he turned back to Harry. “Please, be a good Baby and come sleep with us. …We all care about you Harry, you have to know that.”

“I know that Blaise, but…”

“No buts,” Blaise said, shaking his head. “Ron, take your brother into bed. I need to do some damage control.”

“Okay Blaise,” Ron nodded. He looked at Harry and begged silently. Harry relented and went to bed with his brother. Ever since Mrs. Weasley’s letter, the four of them have become extremely close, making their own make-shift family. Blaise and Draco looked after Harry and Ron who’s friendship turned into a brotherly loved. It was a relationship that Harry needed to keep stable in those awful times. And right now, in his sleep-deprived mind, Harry was thankful for Ron as they’ve slipped their shoes off, took off their belts and slipped into the bed, both taking one entire side. As soon as Harry’s head hit the soft, lavender-scented pillows he fell into a much needed sleep.

Ron smiled as he watched his brother sleep. He gingerly took Harry’s glasses off and placed them on a nearby table before returning to the bed. He looked out at Blaise and watched as his lover talked to the crowd. “Everyone, if you can just be a bit quiet for a while,” Blaise announced. “Harry is in desperate need for some sleep. He’s alright; he just over exhausted himself over the past few months. For now, those of you who have tasks, you can get started on them. Those of you who don’t, just hang out here where it’s safe. A lot of people want us hurt, but trust us when we say we’ll have it all resolved soon. Until then, keep doing what you’re doing.”

The talking in the hall resumed, although in a much quieter level. Blaise turned to Adrian and said, “When Draco and Theo are back from their Ancient Runes class, bring Draco to the bed alright? It should be him sleeping with Harry right now.”

“Alright,” Adrian nodded. Blaise smiled and ruffled Adrian’s hair. “Night Blaise,” Adrian called out.

Blaise chuckled as he returned to the bed. It was time for all of them, especially Harry, to enjoy a nice nap.

 

While that was happening, Draco and Theo were in their Ancient Runes class. Halfway through Draco’s thoughts became distracted Harry as a horrible feeling started to boil in his stomach. He looked around the room and grimaced, he didn’t know how or why, but he felt like something horrible was going to happen with Harry. He started to fidget in his seat in the back of the room, his eyes shifting from the students around him. He wanted the class to be over just so he can be with his boyfriend again.

“Draco? Are you okay?” Theo whispered.

“No,” Draco said. “Just got a headache for some reason.”

“Alright,” Theo shrugged, turning back to the lesson. Draco frowned as the feeling continued. The only time he was away from Harry was during Ancient Runes and whenever Harry told him to sleep in the Dungeons with the other Slytherins. He hated being away from Harry, especially as each day it seemed more of the world turned against him. (“There was just so many things, dear children, that if I even tried to list them all and go through them in complete detail I’m afraid your parents will be rather mad with me,” The Storyteller said to the children in the pub. “And besides, it is starting to get late, I can see the moonlight shining through the windows here, and you all should return to your homes soon. But not before I finish.”) He tried to busy himself with writing in his notebook, but it only made time move slower.

When the bell thankfully rang, Draco was the first to stand and get out of the classroom, Theo following after. “Draco! Wait,” Theo yelled. “Calm down.”

“I can’t,” Draco said, looking back at him. “I don’t know why I’m feeling so anxious, I just hate being away from Harry.”

“I know that you go,” Theo frowned. “But worrying like this won’t do him any good.”

They’ve turned a corner and stepped out of the corridor into the Grand staircase. Draco kept staring straight ahead as the students they’ve past glared at him, jeering and throwing slurs at him. “Just ignore them,” Theo said. “Ignore them…”

“Hey! Malfoy!” A voice from above called at them. Theo and Draco looked to see Parkinson standing at the top of the staircase, her arms on her hips as she stared down. To her left and right were Crabbe and Goyle, looking menacing with their wands out.

“What do you want, Parkinson?” Draco demanded.

Parkinson smirked and said, “I want you and Potter to fall off the top of the Astronomy Tower. Or better yet, I want to see Crabbe and Goyle push you two off! Followed by Nott!”

“Leave us alone Pansy,” Theo said, the girl turned her attention to Theo and her face seemed to grow colder.

“You,” she said. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you Nott! I’m still very angry with you.”

“And I’m not angry with you?” Theo yelled. “Pansy, I thought we had a nice thing going! You are—were cute, laughed at my stupid jokes, we got along, it was good. Then you had to go and try to hurt Adrian—“

“His dads are poofs! And he’s a mudblood!” Parkinson yelled.

“He’s a kid,” Theo said. “An eleven year old kid who’s an alright boy. Why are you so obsessed with this anyway?”

“Why am I? Why are you?” Parkinson asked. “Honestly what happened to you Theo? What happened to you? You used to care about our traditions. You bullied that Ashford kid with me, you hated mudbloods and poofs. So where are you coming from acting high and mighty?”

Pansy smirked victoriously as Theo looked down at his feet, a solemn expression hung on his face. He looked gave a sigh that shook his body and looked up at the girl. “I changed. I changed Pansy. I screwed up, I acknowledged that, and I changed. I apologized to Adrian, and to Draco and Harry for my actions, and now I’m trying to make up for it. I moved on, I got with the times. There’s nothing wrong with me Parkinson; the only person in the wrong here is you! You and everyone else in this godforsaken castle who can’t pull their heads out of their butts.”

Parkinson’s eyes turned cold as she took a step towards Nott. “I am not wrong,” she said. “You are! You and all of those damn creatures you’re calling friends! They should all just go away!”

“Pansy,” Draco warned, taking out his wand and aiming it at her. Parkinson just stared at it and sneered. “Don’t think either of you are welcomed in the dungeons any more Malfoy, Nott. I’m telling everyone that both of you betrayed us. When the Dark Lord takes over, I hope you both are the first to die.”

“When the Dark Lord takes over?” Draco repeated. “When the Dark Lord takes over?” he repeated again, chuckling. “Parkinson, don’t you understand? I’m _with_ the Dark Lord! Harry and I were always with the Dark Lord! He is my boyfriend’s _mentor_! He knows everything about us, and he more than approves!”

“Wha…”

“Our lord is gay, Parkinson. G-A-Y gay. Just like me, just like Harry, and just like Blaise. We three have more of a connection and loyalty to our Lord and his late husband than you will ever know,” Draco continued. “But if you can’t understand even that, then maybe you should be the one to be pushed from the Astronomy Tower.”

“Draco you—“

“I’m not done Parkinson,” Draco said. “To even call yourself a supporter of the Dark Lord after the way you acted? You should be ashamed of yourselves. You too Crabbe, Goyle. One conversation with our Lord, one word on how their sons wanted to hurt Harry and me, and your fathers will suffer a fate worse than Azkaban.”

The two trolls tensed up. Their small beady eyes glanced at each other in fear before they’ve moved in sync out of the way. Draco smirked and turned his stare at the female Slytherin who stood her ground.

“You—you ‘re lying,” Parkinson said, “there is no way!”

“Draco… can I talk with Pansy for a moment?” Nott asked. “You can just go back to Harry.”

“Alright, thanks,” Draco said. He moved quickly past Parkinson and the two stupefied trolls and disappeared around the corner.

Nott climbed the stairs until he was leveled with Parkinson. “Why Do you have to be this way?” He asked. “Why must you oppose every move that Harry and Draco make? That I make? Are you so embedded within the old traditions and rules that you cannot see past their backwards way? Or after all this time are you still a lovesick girl who cannot get past her first crush?”

“Backwards way… Can’t you hear yourself Nott? The Dark Lord is supposed to rid us of the Muggleborns that infested or blood. He is supposed to give us back the control we deserve! And don’t you dare even think that I want that poof Draco anymore! Not after he knocked that fag up!”

Theo chuckled and shook his head. “So sad,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“I said it’s sad,” Theo said. “You’re still feeling for Draco, you’re holding onto the old, outdated traditions… tell me Pansy, can you move on? Or are you just going to stay a static, useless character? A character who threatens only to run away when the real threat arrives. Honestly, what are you even doing here Parkinson?”

“I—you—“

“Nothing, that’s what,” Theo said. “I liked you, I wanted you, and now that I see that you’re really just flat, I don’t want you anymore. I need a girl who’s more rounded than you. Someone with actual character. Goodbye Parkinson.”

Theo began to walk slowly away from Pansy. He was halfway towards the corner Draco turned when Pansy yelled out at him. “Don’t you walk away from me! From everything we stood for! Purebloods have to stick together—“

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” Theo yelled, turning around and pointing his wand at Pansy. Her shock expression froze as her hands clamped to the sides of her body and her legs snapped together. She teetered on the edge of the stairs, but started to fall forward, landing face-first on the stone stairway. Theo did not care or looked back to see Crabbe and Goyle staring shocked at the scene; he was too busy worried about Draco.

Theo found Draco laying in the bed in the far corner of the Room of Requirement. Everyone was talking in low voices, many were coming into and out of the door holding prank supplies, homework, and objects as they’ve went about their missions. Theo nodded and said his “Hellos” to some of them as he past. It felt like a war room in there, and Theo dread that with each passing minute that feeling was going to become a reality. He past the throne-like chair where Adrian and his friend Charlie sat and talked, and stopped at the couch where Blaise and Ron were sitting in.

“Theo, there you are, what took you so long?” Blaise asked.

“We had an encounter with Parkinson,” Theo said. “It looks like we’re no longer welcomed in the Slytherin Dungeons.”

“Damn… seems like they’re starting to kick others out,” Blaise swore. He looked down at Ron and kissed his cheek. “I hope that we can stop this before they go after you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ron said, blushing.

“Where’s Draco?”

“Over there,” Blaise said. He pointed to the bed where Draco was relaxing, Harry deep asleep on his chest. “He finally fell asleep for the first time in weeks,” Blaise said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake him up.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Theo said.

“So what exactly happened?” Blaise asked. Theo sighed and looked around. “Let me bring a chair, it’s going to take a while.” He found an armchair and brought it over to Ron and Blaise, placing it right in front of the loveseat. Theo told Ron and Blaise what happened. When he was done, Blaise and Ron shared a similar smirk. “Never knew you had it in you Theo, great job,” Blaise said.

“Thanks, still makes me feel bad, you know? She’s a bitch, but I liked her,” he said.

“I guess I understand,” Blaise said slowly. “Me though, never liked her.”

Theo nodded and looked around. He relaxed into the armchair and yawned. “I’m so exhausted, I can’t imagine how any of you guys feel. Fighting every day, arguing over and over… having people glare at you. I don’t think I can take it.”

“Well, you’re doing your best,” Blaise said.

“Yeah… you’re good. For a Slytherin,” Ron said. Blaise looked at Ron and gave him a light tap on his backside.

“Anyway…” Theo said, his eyes shifting from the bed to his friends. “What should we do until Harry wakes up?”

“Same thing as always, I guess,” Blaise said. “Though I don’t think we should make any big moves until Harry wakes up. He needs his rest.”

“Yeah, let him sleep,” Ron nodded.

Theo agreed, and they’ve all turned their attention to the bed. Draco was resting his head on the backboard, a pillow separating him from the wood as he hugged his Harry to his chest and smiled, his eyes closed as he drew small, light circles on Harry’s back. The others decided to leave them there. They’ve used the empty boxes of Weasley Wizard Wheezes to construct a wall separating the bed from the rest of the room. Harry and Draco slept the day away, as well as the night and the day after that. Draco refused to move from the spot. He had the elves bring his food to him in the bed and spent the day caressing Harry or reading for his classes.

 Harry slept for two full days. On the afternoon of the third day of sleeping, Harry finally woke up. He groaned and looked around. Draco’s naked chest was beneath him, hot and wet from sweat. “Good morning baby,” Draco chuckled. Harry looked up and smiled at Draco.

“Good morning Draco,” he mewled. Harry gave another groan as he sat up in the bed. His clothes stuck to him and smelled of sweat and odor. He felt exhausted yet invigorated at the same time. He looked around and frowned at the boxes that acted as a wall. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Two in the afternoon on Monday I believe,” Draco said.

“Monday?” Harry asked. His eyes grew wide as he tried to scramble out of the bed. Draco held onto him and pulled him back. “Draco! Let go I’ve slept for two full days! I need to get back and—“

“And what? ‘Plan?’” Draco asked. “What are you exactly planning Harry? What was so important that you’ve placed it above your personal well being?” Harry frowned and shuffled in Draco’s arms. “Well Harry? Tell me,” Draco said as he tightened his hold on Harry.

“I was… trying to think of a way to stop this… all of this,” Harry muttered.

Draco sighed. “Harry… Harry, my stubborn Baby. Why did you force this upon only yourself? Look at my Baby,” he said in a soft, commanding voice. Harry’s dull emerald eyes looking into Draco’s silver. “You’re still exhausted Baby, there’s still bags under your eyes and your eyes lost their shine that I love so much. You have too much to worry about, too much to stress about, and Harry, Baby, you’re only killing yourself by putting all that stress on yourself. You always have me. Why didn’t you include me in this? Why didn’t you ask me to stay the night with you so we could plan together?”

“I don’t want to get anyone else hurt,” Harry said. “I need to end this before things turn drastic and the others start getting hurt.”

“Harry,” Draco sighed. “Then you should have told me. We can do this together: The Ice King and his Baby.”

Harry avoided Draco’s gaze. “I was being stupid, I know.”

“No, not stupid,” Draco said firmly. “You are far from stupid Harry. It is because of you that we’re still here. So come on, let’s get out of bed, freshen up, and get out there.”

Harry looked at Draco, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment and nodded. “Okay… I love you Draco.”

“And I love you Baby,” Draco vowed, kissing Harry. They both got out of bed and freshened up, Draco casting some temporarily charms on himself and Harry so that looked, and smelled, appropriate. They’ve turned the wall of boxes only to be met with silence.

The room was full of students as usual, but everyone was silent, too busy reading, some weeping quietly. Harry looked out and saw Cormac and Terry hugging each other, Cormac’s friends shaking in anger. “What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“This…” Blaise said. He handed Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet. Plastered on the front page was a picture of Dumbledore, Tonks, Kingsley, and other Order members. Just below the picture read the caption: “ ** _ORDER OF PHOENIX COMES OUT OF SHADOWS FOR WAR AGAINST HARRY POTTER!”_**

“No!” Harry gasped.

“Read it. It gets worse,” Blaise sighed.

Harry and Draco frowned. They both looked at the paper and began to read:

_In a surprising move, Dumbledore came out of the shadows and brought with him an entire organization that we never knew existed! The Order of the Phoenix, a collection of many witches and wizards who’s objection is to fight Dark Wizards came out of the background to help Dumbledore with his new mission. That mission: An all out war against Dark Lord Harry Potter. Potter, a dark wizard who is corruption boys with his homosexuality, has caused the Hogwarts castle months of terror, the boy only showing up for classes before disappearing from the face of the earth as his minions carry out his dastardly schemes._

_In an attempt to fight against Potter’s growing influence, Dumbledore has revealed a spell that reverses a person’s homosexuality into heterosexuality. “It is fairly simple really,” the Headmaster explained. “The spell, though rather complex to perform, does a series of small electrical shocks that vary from small to moderate (it all depends on how much of a homosexual the victim is) onto the person’s head. It causes discomfort, and slight pain, but that is just the homosexuality leaving the body.”_

_When asked if the spell will be used on Harry Potter, Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately I believe it is too late for him. We have lost the hero inside him. Now he is only twisted inside. Filled with Dark Magic and homosexuality.”_

_Dumbledore later explained that he and the Order planned to heal Potter’s minions from his influence, the Order performing a cleanse starting on Wednesday. “I’m actually excited really,” Nymphadora Tonks, a young Auror, told the Daily Prophet. “It’s going to be good to get all those boys under Harry’s control. I thought he was a good person at first. I first met him last year during the summer and he seemed an alright bloke. I really don’t know what happened, but he’s far from the boy I’ve met last year. … I’m sad that we can’t perform the spell on Potter, but I will be relieved when we bring him to justice.”_

_The Minister of Magic promised to supply Aurors from the Department of Law Enforcement to help Dumbledore’s cause. With the Ministry and the Order of Phoenix raiding Hogwarts, it looks like Harry Potter’s rebellion will be nipped in the bud, and the young Dark Lord brought to justice before he can do too much damage._

Harry’s body shook with a fear that he couldn’t describe. He looked out at the crowd in front of him. They were going to be tortured, pulled apart and become victims to the Minister’s and Dumbledore’s madness. Frustrated tears welled in his eyes. He closed them, willing them to disappear. When he opened his eyes again, he looked around, his vision clear through the tears. He wasn’t going to let it happen. No. No one from the Ministry or Dumbledore’s Order would touch a hair on any of his friends. Not on his watch.

“They won’t do this,” Harry said softly. Though low, his voice echoed throughout the room. Harry held a hand hold his and turned his head to see Draco standing tall with him. Feeling his boyfriend’s strength and willpower, Harry faced his friends and called out. “No one is going to turn any of us! We are who we are. Nothing can change that.”

“I know that things are hard now, harder than they have ever been, but we will get through this! These people, these ignorant people think that we will hide and wait for them to come, that _I_ will wait for them! But I will not! I know, I’ll never be a hero for all the citizen to adore, but if I hide to save my life, what has my life been for? Nothing. If I, or any of us hide from this we will be throwing our lives away. I say we stand! We stand for our lives. We stand and show everyone out there that we are a force to be taken seriously.

“Dumbledore calls me ‘twisted.’ Well, maybe that’s true. Maybe the road ahead of me wasn’t always straight and narrow, but life never is! But let me tell you guys this! The road ahead may twist, but I will never swerve. I’ll give them all the unsung anti-hero they deserve! I’ve nothing left to lose so the only path to choose is twisted!

“Let them twist my words, let the people scorn me! Who cares if no one mourns me? Let them bury the side of the story they’ll never learn! Let the truth be twisted. Let my life be twisted. I will be twisted! It’s my turn!”

A thunderous round of applause awoke the Room of Requirement. The newspapers were dropped to the ground as everyone clapped and cheered for Harry, their spirits invigorated by his speech. He smiled at them all waved. “We will fight! And we will win!” He yelled over their applause, which only got them to cheer even louder.

He turned to Draco and said, “Tell Blaise and Theo to come with us… it’s time to talk with my mentor.”

Draco nodded and moved away from Harry. Feeling a powerful confidence he never knew he had, Harry walked away from the still cheering crowd and towards the back of the long hall. There was a door that Harry only willed when no one was around. Harry walked into the door and left it open. Inside was a low, long table where Harry spread out and enlarged the Marauder’s map. Behind Harry was a portrait of one of the Malfoy ancestors that he remembered in Malfoy Manor. He looked at the portrait and said, “Open the pathway, please. I need my mentor to come in.”

“And who are you to command me? Eh?” the elderly Malfoy asked.

“You know me sir,” Harry said. “I am your descendant, Draco’s boyfriend… his future husband.”

The old Malfoy just stared at Harry for a moment before standing. He walked out of the portrait and Harry heard a distant lock turning. He turned around to see that he was still alone. Back at the portrait, he watched as the elderly Malfoy walked back into the picture and looked down at Harry. “You better be a worthy person to enter our family,” he muttered. “We Malfoys only accept the best into our family.”

“I am sir,” Harry said. The old man just nodded as his portrait slowly swung from the wall, revealing a dark passageway that the Room of Requirement created, connecting Hogwarts to Malfoy Manor. “It seems even the castle doesn’t want you here, old man,” Harry couldn’t help but comment. The door behind him opened and Harry turned to see the three Slytherins. “Close the door, quick,” Harry said.

“What is this place?” Draco asked.

“The place I’ve spent many sleepless days and nights at,” Harry said. He pointed at the map on the table and said, “I’ve been trying to memorize Dumbledore’s habits, his patterns. That way I know precisely when and how to attack.”

“A formable strategy, Harry, but it seems that you have forgotten your lessons,” the Dark Lord’s voice called out from the passageway. Harry turned as the three Slytherins knelt in respect to the old Dark Lord as he seemed to glide into the room. “Harry, why is it that you have called me here? And more precisely, how?” he asked.

“Dumbledore and the Ministry are planning to attack Hogwarts on Wednesday, focusing on people like us,” Harry said. “I need to stop him before that, and I need your help,” Harry said. “I’ve memorized Dumbledore’s habits. I know what he does and when. I just need your help finalizing the plan.”

Voldemort smirked. “My dear protégée… it seems that you have developed greatly. I cannot express how proud I am at this. However Harry, before I help you, I ask of you for one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Kneel. Kneel before me, call me your Lord, and together we can finish this war,” Voldemort said. Harry wasted no time. He was so close to finishing it all he could feel it. Going on one knee, he looked up at Voldemort and said, “Help me my Lord.”

“Perfect,” Voldemort said. “Rise Harry, and you as well Draco… Zabini, Nott. It is time to begin.”


	17. Nascent Requiem

The Penultimate Chapter

Nascent Requiem

“Dumbledore always wakes up early, more precisely at five thirty-four in the morning. He lingers in his room, most likely reading a book as he moves from his bed to his desk. At five forty he goes to take his shower. He spends precisely twenty minutes in the shower, thirty on the weekends. After he is showered and dressed, Dumbledore moves to his office where he stays until six thirty-two doing paper work and letter writing as he spends all that time by his desk. I have personally watched him several times doing this. Then when six thirty-two arrives he gets up, moves to Fawkes and feeds him breakfast. He then makes his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, arriving there at six fifty a.m. There he stays until the first class begins at nine. During every meal he drinks from a specific goblet that has been set aside for the Headmaster. I have already thought of poisoning him, but it seems impossible to get near the goblet without causing suspicion from the house-elves.

“After nine Dumbledore’s schedule varies. Most days he wanders the school poking his head into classrooms before returning to his office. Some days he returns immediately to his office. There he spends most of his time, moving frequently from his desk to the fireplace, and occasionally taking a stroll to the Owlery. When he does go to the Owlery, he walks the long route past several courtyards and the statue of the troll near the second floor. He stays at his office all day, coming out of it only for lunch and supper. After each meal he returns to his office and continues working on whatever it is that he is doing. At midnight he stops and goes to the private showers near his room and office. There he takes another twenty minute shower and goes to bed.

“There are some days in which that Dumbledore leaves the castle. They are rare but when it happens he leaves by the doorway leading to the Forbidden Forest. He uses this secret passage here to quickly get to the ground floor and out of the castle. He walks to and by Hagrid’s Hut, skirts the edge of the Forest and map before disappearing completely. He reappears though, sometimes in an hour, sometimes in five hours, but he always reappears in the same spot and walk back the same way he left, passing by Hagrid’s hut and sometimes stopping for a brandy.

“I know also that Dumbledore has the ability to temporarily disarm the wards that surround Hogwarts as two weeks ago when it was a downpour, Dumbledore stepped into his fireplace and disappeared only to reappear an hour later. I am guessing that on Wednesday he will use that to his advantage and temporarily lower the wards to allow the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors into Hogwarts. They will be flooing in as well as Apparating. He has taken the wards down a total of nine times since I’ve started observing it, and from the sixth time on I’ve timed it, the seventh, eighth, and ninth time following him under my Invisibility Cloak to see that it takes him precisely two minutes to undo all the wards and two minutes more to set them back up again, leaving them down for precisely an hour. So that was nine times that Dumbledore has left Hogwarts unprotected for an hour. Strangely enough all nine times were at the exact same time. Dumbledore is a man of habit so it is fair to say that on Wednesday he will lower the wards again at the same exact time, which is nine thirty in the morning when all of the students are in their classes, the library, or common room.

“If you want, during that time you could have your Death Eaters apparate into the Castle. However, I want to advocate against that. I only want Dumbledore to die, my Lord, no one else. Even though they thing that we… that people like us shouldn’t exist, that we should be fixed… even though I hate some of them and they’ve broke my heart… I don’t want any of them to die. So instead, we need to figure out a way to kill Dumbledore publically. We need his death to be a message. That message being that Time and Hogwarts are against Dumbledore; we need to show everyone that Dumbledore is wrong. However how exactly we will do that, I do not know. That is why I’ve brought you here my Lord, I need your help finalizing a plan. I know Dumbledore’s habits, I know his routines and I know where he will be at any minute. …I just don’t know how to kill him.”

Harry looked around at the three teens and their Lord. They were in a small hidden room in the back of the Room of Requirement hunched over the Marauder’s Map. He had just finished his briefing, and now waited in silence as the Dark Lord gathered his thoughts. He looked up at Draco and bit his lip lightly, hoping that they would both come out of their situation. Draco met Harry’s eyes and gave him a small smile, reaching across the table to hold Harry’s hand.

“It seems,” Voldemort began, “that you have improved greatly. The amount of information you have gathered Harry is immense, and, thankfully, mostly useful. You wish to keep casualties to a minimum but that will be far too impossible. We could easily prepare for a fight on Wednesday, that would show a bigger message to show that we as a movement will not sit down easily. If Dumbledore dies before then, there still will be the trouble of Wednesday. But for the time being we will focus on alternative methods and, one by one, evaluate their success rate.

“We can begin by trying to assassinate Dumbledore in the Great Hall. If we do this near eight thirty in the morning you would have the biggest crowd so it can be easier to hide where the spell is coming from. However if you are caught, then be sure that you will die Harry, or at least you, Draco, and all your friends will be sentenced to Azkaban and the Dementor’s Kiss. There is also the possibility of the Killing Curse missing Dumbledore and hitting someone else, maybe an ally, maybe an innocent eleven year old I cannot say but there is always that possibility. And if that happens then you will be quickly captured if you do not fight back, or cause only more causalities and your message will be destroyed if you do. With all of this in mind, I believe that going for a straight assassination attempt before Wednesday, while possible, holds a high probability of failure and complications.

“Next we can think about killing Dumbledore in his office. There will be no witnesses, so no innocent civilians to get in the way. If you four goes against Dumbledore there is a slight chance that you can overpower him. Remember that Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, a wizard who will not die easily because of one teenage wizard fights against him. You need numbers, strong numbers, numbers that, honestly, you do not have just using your little army out there. You have them what? Doing pranks, causing distractions? While that is good for childish fun and message making, we are planning a killing Harry, and for a killing we need lethal force and numbers who are not afraid to use them. Both of which I have while you only have one. But let us say that all four of you go against Dumbledore and somehow kill him in his office. Three of you will die during the fight, and the last remaining survivor will barely be able to stand on his legs. You will barely survive to see the consequences of your actions. And with their leaders gone everything you have fought for will be quickly brushed aside as your followers scatter in fear of the Ministry’s and Order of the Phoenix’s tortures.

“Those are two options that we can act upon before Wednesday, and both of them hold a low percentage of success and several unneeded deaths. However, if we plan for Wednesday we will have a better chance of not only surviving and winning. There will be causalities as it will be the Ministry and Dumbledore’s Order fighting against the Death Eaters, however it will also help your cause of looking in the right. It will no longer becoming a war between Dumbledore’s good versus our apparent ‘evil’ but instead it will be a war between our progression and their conservative traditions. Under this viewpoint Dumbledore’s stand will loosen and he, as well as his supporters, will fall. With my Death Eaters protecting the children Hogwarts will witness who is on the right and you, Harry, will have a chance to kill a distracted Dumbledore. I will not lie and tell you right now that there will be casualties, but we are not playing a game Harry. This is life, and in life people die. The lives lost on Wednesday will be lives that are saving hundreds in the future. As both your leader and your mentor I advise you to choose my plan, Harry.”

Harry frowned and stared down at the map. His eyes roamed it, looking at all the names of the students, all of them roaming about their day peacefully, all not knowing or not caring about the dark side that Dumbledore hides. He wanted them all to live, each and every one, even Granger who harmed him in ways no one else could. He did not want their blood on his hands. Still, he had to admit that the first two possibilities Voldemort gave him all had a low chance of survival. He didn’t want causalities or for any innocent people to die. In fact the only person he wanted to die was Dumbledore, but that now seemed next to impossible. But still if there is still a chance that they could do it before Wednesday, shouldn’t they take it? But if they do, and if they are extremely weakened… what will Harry and the others do when Wednesday come? Will they all be alive when it does? Harry sighed and shook his head, he didn’t know what to do.

“Harry… if I may,” Theodore Nott’s voice spoke up. The room’s occupants turned towards the only straight person in the room. “I know that you want to save everybody, and honestly I want to do that too. But still… I think we should listen to our Lord and wait for Wednesday. That way, at least we have more people to help us protect the others. People will be scared Harry, and their fear will only increase immensely if you or Draco or Blaise die because of Dumbledore. We need you Harry, everyone does. We need you to convince the people who were like me, who thought that you guys were disgusting when in truth you’re not. If we attack Dumbledore before Wednesday… there is a high chance that you will die Harry, and I don’t want you to die; I don’t want any of you guys to die. So please… at least consider waiting?”

Harry frowned and stayed quiet. He weighed the odds in his head, his teeth digging into his lip so hard Draco was afraid he was going to break skin. Finally, after ten minutes of thinking of all possibilities, Harry nodded and looked at Voldemort. “We’ll do your plan,” he said. “We’ll wait till Wednesday.”

“Excellent Harry,” Voldemort said. “Then in the meantime we both will prepare our followers. I suggest you tell them to stay hidden on Wednesday, perhaps in this room or in their common room, and I will instruct my followers to invade Hogwarts and protect the students the Order and Ministry try to harm.”

Voldemort turned back to the portrait of the old Malfoy, which was still open revealing the passageway that he came into Hogwarts. Without a word Voldemort walked towards the passageway and seemed to glide into the air, black smoke merging with his robes as he became leveled with the passageway and started moving forward, the portrait swinging close behind him.

Harry turned to his friends, his body tingling with fear and anticipation. “It’s happening,” he said, his eyes on Draco but talking to everyone. “Wednesday… it’s all going to end on Wednesday.”

“We need to get ready,” Blaise said. “Should I tell Ron of our plans?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “But leave out the Dark Lord and killing parts… Ron does not need to know any of those details.”

“Of course,” Blaise nodded and he walked out of the room. Theo looked at Harry and said, “We should plan as well; we need to plan out where we will build our defenses and hide our friends out there.”

“You’re right,” Draco nodded. He looked at Harry and asked, “Are you ready to do that now Baby, or do you need a break?”

“I’m alright Draco,” Harry murmured. “Can you just… keep close to me?”

“Of course,” Draco smiled. He pulled Harry towards him and hugged him tightly. “I will always have you by my side, my beautiful Baby.”

The rest of the day the three stayed in that room, strategizing and planning for the inevitable fight that will occur on Wednesday. The days leading up to that fateful day were bleak: the sun refused to shine and for the three days, Hogwarts being assaulted by an endless storm of rain as Monday turned into Tuesday, and Tuesday transitioned into Wednesday. Their plan was simple. The gay students of Hogwarts were told to come to the Room of Requirement after breakfast. They will be safe there as Harry, Draco, Ron, Blaise, and Theo take care of the problem. Harry could barely eat anything that morning. He kept glancing at his watch, counting down the minutes until nine thirty when Dumbledore will lower the wards and allow the Order and Aurors into the castle. His nerves grew as breakfast ended and all the students filtered towards their first class. Harry kept glancing at his watch. Eight Fifty-Five it read. Harry found he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg, his heart pounding ferociously Time continued to move slowly through Harry’s class, he couldn’t concentrate, his wand hidden in his sleeve for quick use as time slowly moved forward towards the end.

Then with little fanfare or notice, nine thirty came. Harry felt like he could feel the wards around the castle collapsing. He knew that any moment for the next hour Aurors and Order members will be entering the castle. He felt like he could hear their footsteps running around the castle, Aurors and Order members alike as they searched for him. He felt like he was being zeroed out. He looked around the classroom and saw that the students seemed to distance themselves from Harry, Draco, Ron, and Blaise. Professor McGonagall did not notice their separation as she continued to teach. Harry’s mind was too busy wondering when and where the Aurors and Order will barge in and start their electrocutions.

But the lesson ended… the students all walked into the corridors and Harry’s ears were filled with the sound of sudden screaming.

Panic filled the corridors and Professor McGonagall ran out of the classroom to try and keep order. Harry immediately found Draco and the two ran from the panicked crowd and out of the corridor. They turned to see an auror member pointing his wand at a thirteen year old girl, electricity surging from his wand and attacking the girl on her head. Foam started to appear from her mouth as she gave a gargled scream.

“Stop it!” Harry screamed brandishing his wand. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

The two spells flew at the Auror and threw the man across the room. He slumped against the wall and the girl continued to shake. “Are you okay?” Harry asked as they ran towards her. She couldn’t answer, her body still jittering as she tried to wipe the foam away. She just nodded, got up on weak knees and held onto the wall as she walked away. Harry and Draco frowned at each other. “We need to stop this quickly,” Draco said.

“I know, but how? Can we get stop this by simply defeating Dumbledore?” Harry asked.

“We planned for this, remember?” Draco said. He looked back and saw Theo, Blaise, and Ron running towards them. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Theo said.

“Harry! There are Death Eaters here!” Ron screamed, looking panicked. “They’re fighting the Aurors and Order and—what’s going on?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” Harry said. “Just for now stick to our plan, alright? You and Blaise go make sure everyone gets to the Room of Requirement alright. Theo, you’re with us and we’re going to see if we can help with this mess.”

“What should I do if I see a Death Eater than?” Ron asked.

“Run. Just run,” Harry said. “That goes for all of us. Alright?”

Ron frowned, wanting to fight with his friend, but he nodded. “Harry, stay safe alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “And Ron? Make sure Granger stays safe as well. She was our friend yeah? I don’t want to see her die.”

“Me neither,” Ron agreed. The two groups separated; Harry, Draco, and Theo watching as Ron and Blaise run away from them, making sure that everyone gets to the Room of Requirement safely.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” Draco asked. Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map and tried to read it. He could see Auror members and Order members running around the castle, chasing Death Eaters and gay students alike. Here and there the two groups clashed causing only chaos on the paper. His eyes scanned everywhere, looking for Dumbledore’s name. Until finally—“He’s in the Great Hall! Oh God… he’s with Adrian.”

 

“Ronald Weasley!” a voice yelled out. Ron and Blaise were running with a group of scared fourth years towards the Room or Requirement. They were only two floors below the Room, around them were stunned students and Death Eaters. All the students had foam in their mouths and a weak, shocked look on their faces. Ron and Blaise turned to see his mother standing there. “Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded. “Why are you not in the Gryffindor Tower?”

“I’m sorry mum… I’m busy,” Ron said. “We have to make sure everybody is safe.”

“They are safe Ron,” Mrs. Weasley said. “The Order is here to see to that. We just need to get the kids away from the Death Eaters… Who are you?” she asked, her focus zeroing in on Blaise.

“Um hi,” Blaise said. “I’m Blaise Zabini… and I’m Ron’s boyfriend.”

Mrs. Weasley’s heart seemed to break at that. “Oh! Oh! Ron not you too,” she moaned. “I thought that they were lying about you, I really did! I hoped that everything I’ve heard, everything I’ve read about…” She sniffled and her fist curled tighter on her wand. “I should never have let you become friends with Harry. He tore our family apart—he pulled my youngest son away from me! As well as the twins and Charlie—Oh!”

“Mum… it’s not Harry’s fault,” Ron said. “It’s not Harry’s fault that I’m gay Mum, and it’s not Blaise’s either. None of this is Harry’s fault, he didn’t do anything to me, or the twins or even Charlie.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Weasley said. “I know he did something to you Ron, you would never yell at me like that.”

“I’m yelling because I’m trying to make you understand!” Ron yelled. “Fred’s gay! George’s gay! Charlie’s gay! And I’m gay! We’re all gay Mum and there’s nothing you can do about it. And your crying about it, your pushing us away when we just want to live and be a family—that’s what’s tearing us apart! Not Harry, not any of us, but you Mum. I’m gay, I have a wonderful boyfriend and I am happy. Why can’t you accept this?”

Mrs. Weasley’s face shook with tears, it was as if every word Ron yelled stabbed her heart a thousand times. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t, she just slumped to the floor and cried. Her cry was long and deep, sounding so mourning that if it could it would shake even the castle. She continued to weep, babbling like a child who couldn’t pronounce words, and the more Ron and Blaise watched her cry, the more their hearts broke. The fighting around them seemed to stop, the corridor seemed frozen in a lamentable haze as Mrs. Weasley cried. Slowly, as if every inch of movement was heavy and difficult, Ron and Blaise made their way to Mrs. Weasley. They each sat down on either side of her and looked at each other. Awkwardly they’ve held out their arms and hugged the woman who hated them only moments ago. There they sat, Ron and his boyfriend holding his mother as she continued to cry. By the time she finished crying, her face was redder than Ron’s hair, wet and hot from tears and snot. Blaise produced a handkerchief which she used to clean her face. She hugged both of them, mumbling something that should only be shared between mother and son, and boy boys helped her to her feet. By the time they have reconciled, the events in the Great Hall were over as Mrs. Weasley cried through the entire fight, and as the three walked to the Great Hall, all they saw was the aftermath.

 

“Who are you?” Dumbledore demanded again. It was only him and the face that came back to haunt him. “You are dead, you have been executed years ago I’ve saw to it myself. Adrian Balk, why are you still here?”

“I—I am Adrian Ashford,” Adrian said, his voice filled with fear. “Why is everyone doubting who I am?”

“You should be gone Balk,” Dumbledore continued. “I have watched the trials, I watched you died Balk… Now tell me, what sort of Dark Magic brought you back to life? Is the Dark Lord so depraved that he resurrected his husband in an eleven year old’s body?”

“D-Dark Lord? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adrian said, trying to get away from the headmaster. His eyes shifted around rapidly, wishing his dads were there.

Dumbledore shook his head. “You have mocked me for too long Adrian Balk,” he said. “But I will fix this now. I have casted this spell on you once already on the day of your execution, and if I have to cast it again I will. I have no morals of killing you again Balk.” Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at Adrian. “ _Avada—_ “

The doors banged open and they both whipped their heads to see Harry running in. “Harry!” Adrian cried out. He scrambled towards Harry and Draco and hugged Draco. “I need my daddy,” he cried, “I think he almost killed me!”

“Harry! Stay away from that child, he is dangerous,” Dumbledore warned, his wand still pointed at Adrian.

The first year trembled and hid behind Draco.

“You’re wrong Dumbledore,” Harry said. “Adrian is not dangerous!”

“Yes he is,” Dumbledore insisted. “He is the same Adrian that I have executed many years ago—“

“He is not the Dark Lord’s husband,” Harry said. “He is just Adrian Ashford, and you are scaring him. You’re scaring everyone in Hogwarts with your actions, Dumbledore. You’re attacking your _own_ students! Don’t you see what’s wrong with that?”

“I am helping my students get over a horrible disease that you and the Dark Lord have caused,” Dumbledore said.

“Disease?” Draco sneered. “There is no disease you incompetent idiot. You’re just trying to massacre your fellow wizards.”

“You people are not my fellow wizards,” Dumbledore muttered darkly. “I’ve tried to fix all of you, I really have, I wished for the best for my students… and if I have to electrocute each and every one in order to get any hint of homosexuality out of them, then I will do just that. I am sorry Harry, I wish I can heal you the way we are healing your fellow classmates. But you are too far down to be helped. There is nothing I can do but simply put you out of the way. Goodbye Harry, I’m sorry. _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

The green Killing Curse burst from Dumbledore’s wand. It moved swiftly, cutting the air around it with a hallowing sound; Harry’s eyes filled with green, he was certain that he was going to die and he was afraid, so very terribly afraid. Suddenly he felt a pressure on his shoulder and soon he found himself falling onto the ground. Shocked, he watched as Theodore Nott stepped forward, screaming Harry’s name as he pushed him away. Harry watched, horrified, as Theo looked down at Harry and gave him a sad smile. “Be safe,” Theo whispered as the Killing Curse struck his body. Theo’s eyes became dull as life escaped him immediately. His body fell, slumping on the ground, his dead eye staring blankly at Harry, the same, sad smile gracing his face.

“Theo!” Draco yelled as Adrian cried. Angry tears flooding his eyes, Draco glared at Dumbledore. “Adrian, get out of here. I don’t want you to watch this.”

Still crying Adrian nodded and ran out of the room, screaming that Dumbledore killed a kid. Draco helped Harry to his feet and they both glared at Dumbledore. “You killed him!” Harry yelled. “Theo did nothing and you killed him!”

“It is unfortunate, yes,” Dumbledore said, “But he has made his choice by being infected with your disease.”

“Infected? Theo wasn’t infected!” Harry yelled out, angry tears flowing from his and Draco’s faces. “He was straight! He was straight and he was my friend! Theo was an example that people can change. He hated us at first, called us named, bullied us—hurt Adrian badly. But he changed, he learned, he changed and he atoned. And know what Dumbledore? We forgave him. We forgave him and he quickly became one of my best friends. I’ve barely started to get to know him and you… you took him away from us!”

His body filled with anger, he looked at Draco and they’ve made a silent agreement. Both wands pointed at Dumbledore they’ve decided to cross the line of the Dark Arts. “I want to get this over with quickly Dumbledore,” Draco said. “We know that if we dueled you properly you would win. We cannot allow you to continue your hateful ways so… goodbye.”

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Both teens shouted at the same time and their Killing Curses burst from their wands. Their green jets merged together and before Dumbledore could react, their combined spells pierced through the man, throwing his lifeless body into the air and back towards the staff table. Falling onto the small stairs that led up to the platform the staff table rests upon, Dumbledore’s body landed pitifully, his arms waving like a doll’s before one flopping on his stomach and the other the stairway as his head cracked on the topmost stair.

Satisfied with their enemy’s death but still sadden with their friend’s death, Draco and Harry knelt beside Theodore’s body. They mourned their friend silently, Harry looking up at Draco and saying “We should tell his parents… they need to know.”

“Agreed,” Draco nodded. Standing, they both respectfully lifted Theodore’s body and moved him from the cold stone floor to the nearest table. It was at this time that Ron and Blaise came with Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the scene in front of her and gave a small sob. Walking by herself she made her way towards Harry and using Blaise’s handkerchief to dry her eyes again, she muttered, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…that awful letter… the way I’ve treated you… I’m sorry Harry. …”

Harry frowned. He didn’t forgive her on the spot. Instead he just nodded and said, “It’s okay… everything is going to be okay.”

The fighting in the castle slowed to a stop as word spread of Dumbledore’s murder. Death Eater and Order member alike looked into the Great Hall to see Theodore Nott’s body laying peacefully on the table. Flowers had been conjured around his young body, his eyes closed by Draco, the sad smile still gracing his face. Everybody seemed to ignore Dumbledore’s body which lay forgotten near the staff table. On the Slytherin table Adrian was crying openly, hugging two men Harry assumed were his fathers. Harry, Ron and their boyfriends were sitting by the Gryffindor table, each couple lost in their own thoughts as the two men and Adrian stood up.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice said. The four looked up to see the two men. “Which one of you are Draco and Blaise?”

“I’m Draco,” Draco said.

“I’m Blaise,” Blaise said.

The men smiled at them. “My name’s Paul, and this is my husband Jared,” said the deep-voiced man. “We wanted to thank you for looking after our little Adrian here.”

“Yeah,” said the second man, Jared, his voice higher than Paul’s. “You wouldn’t believe how scared we were when those wizard police people showed up at our pub! I was already half scared of death worrying over our little guy throughout the year—letters are not simply enough for a dad, I need to tell you that—but anyway—“

“What my husband is trying to say,” Paul chuckled. “Is thank you both so much, and any time you guys are near Blackpool you are always welcomed in our home.”

“Thank you Mr. Ashford,” Draco said. “But honestly, it wasn’t just us too… our boyfriends Harry and Ron helped quite a lot.”He pulled Harry and into his arms as Blaise did the same.

The two men grinned and Jared said, “Then you boys are always welcomed as well. It is nice to see that Adrian made some good friends here… although the school will be hearing some hell from me! Adrian, I have half a mind to pull you out of this school.”

“No! Please don’t!” Adrian said. “I don’t want to leave them—or Charlie!”

Jared sighed, “We will talk about this later. For now, we need to find out just who is in charge with this castle! Paul, Adrian, let’s go!”

The shorter man led the family away from the two couples and Harry looked at Draco. “They seem happy together,” he mused. “Do you think the wizarding world will be like that?”

“Of course Harry,” Draco whispered. “We’ll make that happen… together.” And as if working as one both Draco and Blaise took their boyfriend’s lips into their own and both couples enjoyed a long, relaxed kiss allowing their stress, tension and anxieties to be melted away. During that time Harry opened his eyes and looked to see that Nott’s body was gone, disappearing in faint black smoke similar to the Dark Lord’s.

After that fateful day, things started to turn for the better. There were still those who rallied against homosexuality, those who believed that it was a disease such as Dumbledore said, but Albus Dumbledore’s reputation was destroyed as news came out of his murder of Theodore Nott. It seemed overnight the Hogwart’s Headmaster turned from beloved schoolmaster to hated murderer. The Ministry did everything they could to separate from Dumbledore and his message, but most did not survive. The public was angry and wanted more from the Ministry of Magic. Cornelius Fudge was forced to step down, his connections to Dumbledore too strong to be swept aside like so many else’s. Later in his life he would be tried and found guilty for his crimes against humanity. He was sentenced twenty years at Azkaban.

After him, Rufus Scrimgeour was appointed Minister of Magic, but quickly lost the position to Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, now Minister Malfoy, became the youngest Minister of Magic by being elected at the age of Twenty. He immediately ushered in a series of laws that helped gay witches and wizards, abolishing all old and harmful laws that both Dumbledore and Fudge pushed to keep. Every thought of the Dark Lord Voldemort seemed to drift as mysteriously after the fight at Hogwarts all Death Eaters seemed to disappear along with Voldemort.

It wasn’t until years later that Harry and Draco heard from Voldemort. They were older now, in their twenties and busy with their lives. The two walked into the abandoned Riddle Manor, wondering it’s ruined halls and rooms until they found Voldemort in the master bedroom. He was sitting in the armchair and looked completely different from the Lord Voldemort that they both knew. He looked human, his skin sagged and pale, his face full of wrinkles from a harmful, old life. His body seemed to have shrink, every breath rattling his bones as he looked up, his eyes now a dull brown instead of the murderous red. “Harry Potter… Draco Malfoy… it is good to see you again,” he wheezed.

“It is Harry Malfoy now,” Harry said, showing his wedding ring to Voldemort. The old man smiled and nodded. “Yes, I have heard about that… congratulations. …” Voldemort looked around and it was then that Harry noticed two things: One was that on the table next to Voldemort was the Gaunt Ring, broken in several places, and the other was that Voldemort was holding onto a picture. Harry leaned and saw that it was a picture of Voldemort as a young man holding onto what Harry assumed was Adrian Balk.

“My Lord… if I can ask… what happened to you?” Minister Draco Malfoy asked hesitantly.

“Regret,” Voldemort said. “What you see here is my regret. I have spent my days searching for my Horcruxes that I have hid so many years ago. One by one I have found them, and one by one my soul has been restored. It is… a painful process… one of which that is supposed to kill me. …But, as you see, my soul is whole yet I am still here. … I am not meant for this world anymore… our goals have been accomplished… the world Adrian and I have dreamed existed, and only I survive to view it. … I cannot die with a splintered soul, not truly… so I have collected these Horcruxes in order that I may reunite with my Adrian. …”

“Then, what is it you want us to do, my Lord?” Harry asked.

Voldemort chuckled. “One last thing Harry,” he said. Using most of his strength Voldemort sat up fuller on the chair, still clutching the photo as if it was his lifesaver. “Both of you have grown… you are not the teenagers I have known a little more than a decade ago. You’ve become strong… powerful… you changed the world when I could not. … I am proud of you, both of you, and so I ask of you to do one thing for me.”

“Name it,” Draco said.

“Kill me,” Voldemort said. “My time in this world has past… it is time for me and my beloved to reunite. Take your place as leaders of the Wizarding Community. Though Dumbledore is dead, our war cannot truly end until I have died as well. So kill me, here in the halls of my father. I have seen my regrets and I have no more. I am ready.”

Without hesitation Harry and Draco silently pulled out their wands. “Good bye Tom,” Harry said.

“Good bye Harry Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort said faintly. “I am proud…”

The room filled with a soft green light as their nonverbal Killing Curses struck Voldemort. His eyes were still staring at the picture of himself and Adrian. Their business done, the two men proceeded to make a proper grave for Voldemort and made an epitaph fit for his accomplishments.

This is what it read:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

(December 31st 1926—November 23rd 2006)

A MAN WHO HAS KNOWN MANY HARDSHIPS AND FACED THEM BRAVELY EVEN WHEN HEARTBREAK BROKE HIS SOUL.


	18. The Storyteller Finishes His Story

The Final Chapter

The Storyteller Finishes The Story

“And that is the story of Harry Malfoy, the story of how the False Lord died and the downfall of Albus Dumbledore. Many of you might be wondering how I know all of this, how I can know such secret details. Well my friends, dear children, it is time for me to reveal one more secret: my identity. I have been keeping my identity a secret for the whole story, but now I believe it is time for me to reveal it,” the storyteller said. He stood up and took off his hood, revealing his scared face and long shaggy black hair. “I am Theodore Nott. Back from the dead. The Dark Lord revived me using the Darkest of magic that even I cannot explain, but here I stand before you with the purpose of telling you the truth of what happened at Hogwarts—“

“You lied.” The small voice of the smaller twin who sat near the back of the pub spoke up. They both stood up, the five year olds glaring at Theodore Nott with a childlike stubbornness.

“Yeah! You lied!” said the taller twin.

“How dare—and who are you?” Theodore demanded.

“I’m James Malfoy,” said the taller, “and this is my brother Scorpius. Harry and Draco are our daddies and you lied!”

“That can’t be true,” Theodore Nott said, more angry than shocked. “You are the ones who are lying boys! Harry and Draco have no children! They had an abortion—“

“That’s our older brother,” James Malfoy frowned. “Daddy told us that they lost him because of something really bad happening. But you lied still! Most of that stuff never happened.”

“Yeah!” The smaller Malfoy, Scorpius, said, “Dad and Daddy never lies to us!”

As if on cue the pub door opened and everyone turned to see a man walk in. He looked to be in his early thirties, black unruly hair led down to stubble that covered his cheeks and upper lip. He wore glasses that sat in front of emerald green eyes. “Scorpius! James! There you are,” Harry Potter said, his voice sounding both relieved and angry. “Honestly where have you been? We told you to be home hours ago! Do you even know what time it is? Honestly this is the last time we allow you to hang around with your cousin Hugo without an adult for a long time!”

“Sorry Daddy,” Scorpius said, looking down at his feet as his cheeks blushed. “But—but—“

“Hugo wanted to hang out with Sam and Tommy,” James finished. Harry sighed and shook his head. He looked at the children and crossed his arms. “Hugo! Tommy! Sam! Get up right now! Hugo, just wait till your fathers hear about this—the same goes for you Tommy! And Sam, I thought Hermione and Anthony raised you better! And you two! Just wait till I tell Adrian and Charlie about this!”

“Sorry Mr. Malfoy,” the children chorused.

“But it’s not our fault! We were listening to the storyteller!” Sam piped up. “He was telling us about when you and our parents were in Hogwarts!”

“He lied Daddy!” Jamie said. “He lied! He lied!”

“Storyteller?” Harry frowned. He looked up at Theodore Nott, who seemed to squirm in his seat. Nott refused to meet Harry’s eyes and instead tried to look past the man, as if trying to figure out a way to run away.

“Hello… Harry… long time no see, eh?” Nott said.

“You!” Harry seethed. “Nott! What the fuck are you doing here? I thought Draco and I told you to stay away from us!”

“Yeah well… I just wanted to—“

“What have you been telling these children hmm?” Harry asked. “Well Nott? My sons say you’re lying, so are you lying again?”

“I was only trying to help—“

“Help?” Harry screamed. “Funny coming form you! You almost killed me Nott! Don’t you remember? You almost killed me and Draco! Or have you forgotten you slimy little git! Hogwarts, seventh year—I’ve gave you those scars after you tried to kill Adrian Ashford when Voldemort invaded—don’t you dare flinch you traitor! You’re the one who allowed the Dark Lord to invade Hogwarts! You’re the one who betrayed Draco’s trust as well as Blaise’s! I told them time and time again that you are nothing but a cowardly worm but did they listen? No! You were their friend, and you betrayed them. That’s it I have enough. Kids! Come on I’m taking you all home! And Nott, I’m going to make sure that you rot for the rest of your life in Azkaban! Don’t you ever go near my children again you villainous piece of shit. I’m sorry for cursing kids, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Nott lied to everyone even us the readers! Thank you for reading, yes this is the real ending, and I regret nothing.


End file.
